“Every child comes with the message that God is not yet discouraged of man” – Rabindranath Tagore
I wrote this piece a fortnight before the festival of Deepawali, reflecting on the simple honesty we often lose as we grow up. It was inspired by my observations of children, my own childhood memories, moments of laughter, and reflections on life’s experiences, all of which continually remind me of what truly matters. We all chase what is priceless. For some, it is the beauty of nature; for others, the comfort of family. For a spiritual person, it might be the love and devotion for their chosen deity. The answer is always subjective, constantly shifting as we age. When we are five, a few cents’ worth of candy feels like treasure. By thirty, even a bag of money can seem ordinary. For me, the most priceless thing in the world is the innocent smile of a child. Their untainted joy is the only force that makes me forget all weariness. In India, there’s an old saying, “Children are made in the image of God.” Thinking of them reaching greater heights in the future fills me with immense gratification and incomparable bliss. Every child holds the potential to do wonders, if nurtured with care and patience.
A child is like a young shrub needing the right amount of water, sunlight, and love to grow into a wise and mighty oak. Children observe keenly; they absorb everything in their surroundings. That’s why parents and teachers are blessings, the first guides in shaping tender lives. One parent once described having a child as “pulling out your own heart and watching it live outside your body.” Few metaphors capture the vulnerability and awe of parenthood better than that. My admiration for children and the inspiration behind my writing come largely from the philosophies of Pandit Nehru and Rabindranath Tagore. Tagore wisely said, “Don’t limit a child to your own learning, for she was born in another time.” I once came across a video of Nehru speaking with children, a moment so pure it could move anyone to tears of joy. Yet, I often feel disheartened when I see adults labeling a child as “less intelligent” simply because of grades. The real failure lies not in the child, but in a system that expects every mind to think alike. As Albert Einstein is believed to have said, “Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.”
Comparison, too, is a thief of joy. Forcing children to fit into a “societal scale” breeds feelings of inadequacy that quietly erode their self-esteem. The most sensitive ones suffer the most. Even when the wounds aren’t visible, the inner damage often lingers unseen. History is filled with examples of misunderstood brilliance. Thomas Edison, for instance, was expelled by his teacher for being “intellectually weak.” His mother, recognizing his spark, chose to teach him at home, and he went on to illuminate the world. If you want unvarnished truth, don’t ask a politician or a diplomat. Ask a four-year-old. They’ll gladly tell you your new haircut makes you look like “Winnie the Pooh”, or that the cupcake you spent hours baking tastes “like yucky mud.” That brutal, beautiful honesty is the hallmark of childhood. Children live in a world of literal meaning, while adults become masters of white lies. I still remember begging my mother to promise she’d only pour warm water during winter baths, and every time, the first thing she picked up was the soap!
The beauty of a child’s social world lies in its absence of grudges. Two children can have a shouting match over a video game and be best friends again five minutes later. Adults, on the other hand, often tum cunning, not out of malice, but as a learned tool for survival. What we call “diplomacy” or “savvy” is often just the adult version of self-protection. Still, perhaps the most priceless gift of childhood is that same brutal, beautiful honesty, a clarity we tend to lose, but can always strive to reclaim. This reflection was born out of countless moments watching children speak, dream, and forgive without hesitation. If it touched something in you, I’d love to hear how childhood still echoes in your own life.
Notice – This article is a chapter from Glimpses of My Worldview (2025). It is being republished here on my blog as part of a complete serialization of the work.