EXAM FEVER

I thought I was over and done with exams for a lifetime. But the gods willed otherwise. I opened Appu’s “homework diary” the other day and my heart stopped beating for a moment. Right at the top written in bold was the legend, EXAM SYLLABUS.

The list read as follows:

A to Q-both capitals and small letters-this for a 3-year old who can barely hold a pencil.

Numbers-1-10-now this one I could do, especially if I could get a hold of enough “Gems”-the sugar coated candy my son is so fond of.

Fruits from Page 10 of textbook- Now how hard could this be? I had reason to gloat, since Appu dear already knows the common ones thanks to his grandmother’s persistence. I was in for a surprise. The list of fruits on Page 10 read like this. Pineapples, Litchi, Custard Apple…….whatever happened to the apples, oranges and mangoes of yore?

Add to this, a bunch of nursery rhymes I had never even heard of. Was this the generation gap at work?

Report Card day at playschool. I waited with trepidation. This was ten times worse than getting my own report card in the past. I was handed the report card and I braced myself for a slew of comments on my bad parenting skills.

I opened it and saw a cute little golden duck pasted on it. Mystified, I looked at Appu’s teacher. The only duck I could think of was as in cricket, and I hoped against hope that this wasn’t anything to do with zeros. Seeing the mystified look on my face, Appu’s teacher hastened to explain that a golden duck meant “Good”. I took that to mean that wonder of wonders, Appu had passed!! I am now steeling myself for the next ordeal in store for me-THE FINAL EXAMS.

SALT OF THE EARTH

Sunday evening saw me make a beeline to Lalbagh with a friend. Steady drizzle notwithstanding, I was determined to view the “Janapada Jatre” – the folk fair to all you uninitiated.

Seated on the hillock that is a famous landmark of the gardens was a sea of humanity from all walks of life. Mouthwatering smells of roasted corn and masala chai permeated the air.

A sense of expectancy surrounded the crowd. The show began, right on time, I might add. What followed was a spectacle par excellence. A riot of color, pulsating drums, perfect synchronization and some heart stopping acrobatics by a woman, no less, held the audience in thrall.

For an hour and a half, rain or no rain, the crowd egged the folk dancers on. Move over, Boogie Woogie and all you reality dance shows. This is the real thing!!!

HAIR TODAY GONE TOMORROW

Emergency situation that called for drastic action.

Appu’s head was beginning to sport a realistic afro and his tiny little face was lost somewhere in all those curls. Repeated entreaties to both men in the family were met with a “later, we are busy.”

Never one to give up once I got something into my head, I decided to take Appu to the nearby barber’s. This decision was met with a scandalized reaction from my dad. “What?” “Youre going to go into a men’s saloon?” “ Are you out of your mind?” “What will people think?”

“That I came in to get my son’s hair cut, that’s what.” Proud of myself for having come up with a witty retort at least this once and feeling distinctly superior for breaching yet another male bastion, off I went.

As I parked my bike, I was filled with trepidation. Had I bitten off more than I could chew? Was I ok with being stared at by all the resentful men waiting for their haircuts? What if Appu decided to kick up a fuss and refused to sit still?

Praying to all the gods I could think of, I set foot inside the saloon and surprise, surprise!!! Not a single patron around. It was a Tuesday, when most people do not get their hair cut.

My heart rate returned to normal and I made myself comfortable while my son got his hair cut. Surprisingly enough, he didn’t move a muscle for the next 15 minutes. Were there any more surprises in store for me?

As I sat around waiting for the barber to finish, I looked around the saloon. No girlie pictures, not even a calendar. But every single brand of hair dye and bleach I had ever heard of was displayed on the shelves. It was weird to see all those female faces on the boxes stare back at you in an all-male saloon. Whoever thought of fairness creams, bleaches and shampoos for men is certainly going to be laughing all the way to the bank!!