Kishore Singh: Head of the family, ha'ah!

PEOPLE LIKE US

Last week has been particularly fraught at home. My daughter, who takes after her mother in more ways than one, has started showing early signs of rebellion.

Oh, they've been there for a while "" such as not wearing "Indian clothes" to a housewarming puja, or styling her hair to fall over half her face so you think she has only one eye "" but if you shouted enough (both loud and long, that is), she'd be coerced into submission. All that, alas, is now history.

When she was a small girl, a waif really, her mother carted her off to a doctor to have her earlobes shot through with gold wire, and so from a very young age she had her ears pierced, much against my desire that she be allowed to make her own decisions about these life-changing events when she reached a certain maturity.

Having got her ears pierced as an infant, our daughter decided at about the time she had perfected the art of banging doors to grab attention, that she wanted some more ear piercings. I said no, my wife said she wasn't about to take sides, my mother said it was fine, and even as I threatened not to speak to her if she had any more drillings done in her ears, I came back from office to find the deed had been done. Because I'm a sport "" but chiefly because of a loss of face "" I submitted that I'd been wrong, that her multiple piercings made her look appealing, and could I give her a hug and let bygones be bygones.

But this time when the piercing monster rose again, I thundered and shouted. I would not let her have her nose pierced, I said, and if she defied me, the price she'd have to pay would be steep indeed. "But my mother's nose is pierced," my daughter reasoned. "And she looks like a cow," I bellowed. "I absolutely forbid you to have your nose pierced before you're 25." "You know, I get to vote at 18," my daughter reminded me. "Too right," I agreed, "but no more piercings till you're 25."

She cajoled and wept and wheedled but I was firm even while my wife and son and mother joined forces and asked me to see reason. I was not about to have my little girl's face pockmarked with holes on her whim and fancy. At the end, though, it was just as useless as before because she went out one fine morning with her friends and returned later in the day with a silly nose-pin drawn through one nostril. It was clear that for all the bluster about being the head of the family, I counted for little.

"Fine," I said, talking reasonably, "since you will not listen to me anyway, perhaps I should give it to you in writing that it's okay by me if you want to have your eyebrow or your navel or your tongue pierced." "Eyow," squealed my daughter, "that's so gross." "No," I insisted, "now that you've begun, why not go ahead with a few more piercings?" My daughter looked up at me doubtfully, "Since you suggest it, I wouldn't mind getting the tops of my ears done..."

I must have exploded because, at any rate, the rest of her ears are still intact. Though how long that'll be, I'm not sure. However, I have other worries on my plate. The other day, the wretched child came up and asked permission for getting a tattoo "" "a tiny one" "" done, on her back, maybe, or on the heel of her foot perhaps. For what it counts, I've said no. But till she has it done, I know I'll be on tenterhooks!