Vuvuzela and my daughter

The last day today. I am feeling a real sorrow a deep grief for the ending hours of my favorite tournament till childhood, the FIFA World Cup. This time, like all other times, it was a time to spend for myself. To stay late at nights, working hard at the day time. Full concentration of mine was to finish my assignments for the day and reach for the TV as soon as I could, during these whole month. The evenings were so colorful after nearly four five months since we all stopped watching TV totally. That is for the good of our 4 years old daughter's education and upbringing. She was having a very extraordinary hyper activity syndrome which is just for prolonged TV watching and our ignorance about that.

But, this time, after the world cup started, I loosened the restriction of her watching TV at least during the match. Not for her but for myself, my very own self. The only viewer being me, sometimes I enjoyed her company during these TV sessions (only the evening matches for her of course). I tried to let her know what is a goal, and the simple rules of playing this game. I soon felt proud as she quickly learned a bit of the terminologies with her little grown brain of 4 years and was so happy to see people run with the ball. Only thing she liked or disliked about the game was a continuous sound of Vuvuzela, mostly in the early games when may be the "Notch Filter" was not being used to reduce the raucous sound Vuvuzela produced.

The plastic made horn which produces 113 dB(A) at 2 metres (6.6 ft) from the horn opening, which can create short time Noise-induced hearing loss (NIHL) as it is blown. A similar instrument, known as the corneta, is used in Brazil and other Latin American countries. So, there were a great deal of discussions and controversy about the usage of Vuvuzela during the world cup matches where thousands of Vuvuzelas created an extreme disturbance to the players as well, kept aside the viewers. Finally Vuvuzela has become a fearful buzzword during the world cup.

Interestingly enough, my little daughter also started fearing from the Vuvuzela.
"Vuvuzela ke voi pacchi baba." (I am fearing from Vuvuzela dad.)
Wondering for a prolonged time, I understood, Vuvuzela is a collection of two words, Vuvu + Zela, where "Vu" stands for the initials of "Vut" the ghost in Bengali and Zela sounds like "Jail" in Bengali. So, she was fearing from a Ghost in Jail. Interesting indeed.

Finally she understood from my continuous convincing that there is no such thing like Ghost in this world and Jail is only for the criminals and most of all, Vuvuzela has nothing to do with neither ghost, nor jail, she thrown away the conviction she developed, and we enjoyed the matches happily together.