Toys go hi-tech

Fed on a western diet of GI Joes and Barbies, kids today know little about traditional toys like stuffed dolls and wooden cartwheels. Ananda Krishnan on the changing trend and the plight of traditional toy-makers.

Remember the toy cart you had in school, which went rat-a-tat across the room? Or the rag doll your grandma so lovingly stitched together for the birthday? Or the many rattles, paper windmills, kitchen sets, cardboard cartwheels…?

Today’s kids can identify with none of these. If it’s a girl, she’s busy adding to her Barbie collection, if it’s a boy, there’s Tarzan or Superman for him. And if you want something that pleases them both, there’s Winnie the Pooh, Lego or even Sony’s Playstation.

Blue-eyed plastic contraptions that recite "mama" in monotone have replaced the rag dolls of yore. Toy carts have made way for black-and-gold Ferraris and Lamborghinis. As for the cartwheels and windmills, few kids would know what you are talking of.

For that matter, even teddies are fast getting extinct. As Reena Srinivasan, mother of a four-year-old girl in Mumbai points out: "My daughter’s favourite Indian toy is a Barbie dressed in a saree."

Observes Shikha Mishra, a journalist: "If the kids are able to identify a Ferrari quicker than a Fiat and feel an affinity to Batman rather than Birbal, the answers are to be found in Cartoon Network on television."

Many parents feel that children cannot even differentiate between toys that are Indian and foreign. All that matters is that they should be familiar figures or
trendy playthings, as seen on television. In a market-driven economy, toy manufacturers are only cashing
on this trend.

The fallout from this is two-fold: one, the death of India’s toy-making tradition, and two, the influences of an alien culture on a child’s mind. Some social activists have begun campaigning for a ban on what they describe as "western toys".

"Indian toys are not only part of an art tradition but also contribute to the well-rounded growth of an individual’s personality," explains Vaidehi Thakkar, a child psychologist. "Besides, they are environment-friendly since we have a custom of making toys from bio-degradable material."

Clay modellers who used to make dolls, masks, animal forms and tiny carts are no longer seen even in village fairs. Many have turned to farming or are working as coolies in big cities and the few left behind, are trying their hand at pottery and making idols during festival season.

Some, who have the resources and enjoy the patronage of state emporiums, are making clay artefacts, souvenirs and gift items for foreign tourists. "There is no artistry involved in making such items," says a craftsman in the Cottage Industries showroom in Bombay.

"All the trinkets, toys and dolls are die cast, leaving no scope for creativity. They are the result of assembly-line production in our workshops. We do it because the money is good. But the real art of creating something new every time is gone. There are no takers for such stuff."

Makers of toys from wood, paper and cloth are also complaining about diminishing clientele and the gradual extinction of an art form, but find themselves completely powerless in countering the popularity of machine-made toys.

"They are backed by big companies with big money, whereas we are artists struggling to make ends meet," says Udham Singh, who sells trinkets and balloons on Bombay’s pavements. "What can we do if people are determined to corrupt their children’s tastes?"

But then, it is not as though all is hunky-dory with dealers of foreign toys. For one, they are very expensive and second, their shelf life is limited. With every passing week, newer and more sophisticated toys are entering the Indian market.

Moreover, there are parents like Delhi-based businessman Samir Kukreja, who complain of low attention spans in present-day children. His eight-year-old son Sahil says: "I have all the Hot Wheels and He Mans and now I want the entire Batman and GI Joe series."

The fallout from this is two-fold: one, the death of India’s toy-making tradition, and two, the influences of an alien culture on a child’s mind. Some social activists have begun campaigning for a ban on "western toys".

Sahil’s five-year-old sister Sanjana, clutching her newly acquired imitation cell-phone, only loves "mummy and Barbie". Her collection includes a variety of Walt Disney characters, some kangaroo balls and a few activity toys.

Like most young parents, Kukreja believes that foreign-manufactured toys are of top quality. "Indian toys are good too, but the foreign toys in the market are of superior quality and one does not want to make compromises when it comes to one’s children." — MF