So… Long time huh!. OK I have said this umpteen times in my previous posts. Before I crave for anymore coffee, before I’m distracted by all the mess around, I’m straight away getting to the point.
For the past 2 months, I have been running in and out of a school for my daughter. It is very important for the child to go to a right school and to be led into a prospective direction of his/her future. Yeah right! Our parents didn’t think about it but we still get to our future. That was a different age altogether.
Before, it would take minimum of 30 years for the difference between generations, but these days, generations change every 2 years.
It was my dream to go to that school, my parents didn’t try hard or should I say, they didn’t try at all. I have gone through a lot at a very young age, so I guess I could think a little better for my age at 13. I would observe my peers and had selected a few schools in my mind for higher secondary education. I had 3 schools close to my residence [I priority], which my parents could afford [II Priority] and I would fit in [well, that wasn’t a priority].
It’s a different story today. What counts is how famous is the school [reasons right or wrong doesn’t matter – how many people recognize the name of the school – that’s I priority] The fees you pay has to be in lakhs [II Priority] the parents must be working for a software company [“A multi million dollar company” owned by a school drop out – sorry for being sarcastic] Only then you are considered to be “in the group” of Proud Parents.
My thought for a school was different. I knew that a school like that existed round the corner. I decided it would be that school the day my daughter was born. I chanted the name for four years until she was eligible and sung the goodness of the school to anybody who asked me about which school my daughter would go to.
I couldn’t consider any other school to be as good as it was and still is. Its not that the school has won merits, but for the culture they imbibe. Its not that every student of this school is a doctor or an engineer or an IAS officer [like every leading school boasts about itself of] It is the foundation they lay for every child, for the attitude, the confidence they build in each child to fight the outside world, to face each problem with the same strength as they did with the previous one. They empower each girl and form personalities out of them, they preach to believe in god and respect each one as a human not for his religion or richness, all along with the curriculum. That must be a foundation for a child and not how hard to study and how much to score in the exams and be selfish and greedy in the rat race.
We applied for the seat in this school and attended the interview. All though it went well in there, my daughter’s name didn’t appear on the board for admission. That was the most disappointing moment of my life. I never expected that, we qualified in all terms. So I and my husband would end up at the school office everyday for 2 months, trying to convince the principal that my daughter is an eligible pupil of their school, so did many other parents waiting with me. I took it up as a commitment, for my daughter, for her future. I would be there everyday waiting. Sometimes it was for an hour, sometimes for a whole day. There are days when I have cried inconsolably, taking it up on myself, for not giving my daughter a good future.
So… We fight all odds, sometimes disappointed and sometimes ready to give up until the last drop of hope and we finally make it. Our daughter gets the admission.
I pay the fees, collect books and uniform, and attend the induction program. It’s the D day for my daughter, she’s all prepped for the school, my hubby and me as proud parents walk into the school with our daughter. We find the classroom, smiling all the way [in pride to be a part of such a prestigious school] I stand there for a moment waiting for my daughter to move forward, then give her a small nudge to get in to the class, I feel her clutching hard onto my hands, I turn to look at her, her eyes have welled up waiting for her tears to overflow. She looks at me and waaahhhhhhhhhh….. She starts crying not wanting to go into the class. She looks at me and yells “I don’t like this school; I want to go back to Eurokids [the play home she had been to for 2 years].
I stand there with mixed feelings of anger, sorry, scared as if losing a battle.