Ha, ha, I’ve got five forms!” proudly announced my son-in-law as he came home with a spring in his step. Come the academic session, parents scoot from school to school in search of a seat for their ward. The better its reputation, the longer the line to collect its application form. So when my granddaughter crossed five, her father visited various schools at unearthly hours to collect their forms. After examining each school’s ‘quality’, he submitted applications to three. Then it was a question of waiting for the interview call, with fingers crossed.
Time was when only the parents were called for an interaction, since the child was considered too tiny to properly respond to questions. Much muddied water has flown down the Ganges. It is now par for the course to question the child on her knowledge, intelligence, etc. With the number of applications far outweighing the number of seats, one sympathises with school authorities who plead helplessness. They need to have some method to weed out applicants, an elimination, not selection, process. If the cricket World Cup can decide the winner on the basis of boundaries scored, why can’t a prospective student be asked to count up to 15?
I got down to the task of making her ‘battle ready’ to face the formidable principal. But I need not have worried. The more onerous the odds before a child of today, the more she overcomes it with confidence. We were thrilled when she got a call from a reputed school.
The teacher conducting the interview asked her first question: “Who is your best friend?” “Alisha,” was the prompt answer. The lady smiled. That was easy, too easy!
Next question: “What is the game you like best?” Again, my girl didn’t hesitate. “Puzzles!” she said. The principal gave her a puzzled look. Maybe she expected a different answer. So what? A teacher should learn to expect the unexpected, even from the mind of a five-year-old.
“Are you familiar with shapes—like circle, square, oval, etc.?” The interviewee nodded. “Which is your favourite shape?” “Heart!” What a ‘hearty’ reply. She had lifted the discourse from geometrical figures to an emotional high. “Interesting!” the matron remarked with a smile. “Her heart is in the right place.” My granddaughter qualified for the admission.
Ishwar Pati
Email: ishwarpati@gmail.com