When Amy Chua’s Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, a memoir about raising children, was published in 2011, it kicked up a lot of  intellectual dust. The book made a case for the Chinese Way – high expectations from children, precise lists of dos and don'ts, and determination to see them through. It led to fiery debates over parenting styles – permissive western style versus demanding eastern style. There were speculations on other cross-cultural collisions – what if it were about a Japanese mother in America; or an American in India; or, perhaps, an Indian in China?

Lom Harshni Chauhan’s Visa, Stickers and other Matters of the Soul, published this year, plays out the last scenario. After over 25 years in India – growing up in the hill town of Shimla in the north, and at a college/ashram in the south – Chauhan moved to China after her marriage in 2002. Three years later her daughter Kyra was born. Then followed questions about parenting, and the adventure of bringing up a child in a foreign land, in a culture very different from her own. Chauhan’s story is as engagingly told as Amy Chua’s – but offers a very different narrative.

More spiritual than material

Like Amy Chua, Chauhan takes up an active role as a parent. However, her concerns are more spiritual than material. She saw that the extended network of family, friends and institutions that she had when she was growing up was missing in China. There were very few Indians there, and it was not only officially atheist but also “a nation undergoing constant, rapid economic and social change”. Spirituality would be the anchor that would help her child lead a happy and productive life in a fast changing world.

The purpose also makes Chauhan’s approach different from Amy Chua’s. During most of her children’s growing up years, Amy Chua’s faith in the Chinese Way remains unshaken. It’s a mother-knows-best approach, which might face resistance, but will eventually be vindicated. One reviewer said her methods “will make her readers gasp – with horror but also with unexpected envy.”

Chauhan’s approach on the other hand comes across as open-minded, inventive and humble – and is underlined by conversations, games and real life applications, one often leading to another. For example, the Stickers in the title comes from a chat that the mother and daughter have about death – what happens to people after they die?

Chauhan tells Kyra about the idea of reincarnation – about how the soul lives on and how habits like anger and patience get stuck to soul – like Barbie Stickers – and are carried forward to the next life. About how one can add Good Stickers or remove Not Good stickers by one’s action.

It’s the concept of karma, wrapped in modern terminology, designed for children below eight. And it develops into a game that would be played over and over again. A small Shyness Sticker (for Kyra was a shy kid) would be ceremoniously ripped off – for example, when she acknowledged someone’s greeting. Or a Courage Sticker would be snapped on her back, when she did something brave – like going on stage to play the Guzheng, a Chinese string instrument.

Two-way street

Battle Hymn might have given the impression that parenting is all about conflict, the struggle between short term temptations of children and long term vision of all-knowing parents. In Visa, Stickers, on the other hand, the lessons flow both ways – for children can be as insightful about life as adults are. Kyra is a natural in not only grasping the nuances of her mother’s lectures, but also in taking them forward, applying them to real life and coming up with refreshing ways to look at an issue.

In Kyra’s world, confronting mean words uttered by other children is a big problem.  “When you speak mean words, it’s like a wrinkle on a paper, Mama,” she [Kyra, that is] said, folding a crease into [a] paper. “Every time one speaks mean words, one more wrinkle comes, and one more and one more.” She folded the paper into smaller and smaller parts until it became a very small, thick piece. Then opening the paper to reveal the creases, she added, “Even if one opens the paper, the wrinkles don’t go away.”

Later, inspired  by a story of Buddha, Kyra finds her own solution. “So, instead of getting angry and saying ‘Why are you saying mean words to me?’ may be I should smile and tell Lydia, ‘Thank you, but I don’t accept your gift of mean words. Bye, bye.’ ”

In the debates that Amy Chua’s book set off there are only two types of parenting – the Demanding Eastern Parenting, prescribed by Amy Chua (at least till the children start rebelling) and the Permissive Western Parenting. Chauhan’s memoir shows that there are many more possibilities – one of which is reflected in her narrative. It's both demanding and permissive – but above all, it's explorative, where a parent and a child hold each other’s hands and go on a journey, discovering new things about their world and themselves.

Reading Visa, Stickers – and it’s a good read; beautifully written, often profound, and always funny – also reveals something about Battle Hymn that one might have missed amidst the intellectual dust. It’s the fact that underlying Amy Chua’s strict, rule-based, no-nonsense style is the same maternal love that's behind Chauhan’s explorative, open-minded approach. And that’s the big takeaway from the memoir. For all the differences in the goal and in the approach, good parenting is fundamentally about the deep and selfless love parents have for their children.

Visa, Stickers and Other Matters of the Soul by Lom Harshni Chauhan, Pan Macmillan