I opened the door in the morning to look for the newspaper. But I couldn’t see it. Instead there were heaps of some other sheets.

Ah! There it was! Buried underneath…

I gathered all the sheets and the newspaper and bolted the door behind me. The sheets seemed more like pieces of colourful satin and less like paper and there were so many that they made the newspaper look anorexic.

As I read them one by one, I realized they were advertisements. Unsolicited promotional flyers! Not of soaps and shampoos. Not of the discounts in super markets. Or local sales.

They were flyers for schools.

Why on earth do schools need to advertise? And what do they need to advertise? Has Dr. APJ Kalam joined their faculty? Have they turned into a Harvard or Stanford overnight? Do their children get admission into IIT without going through an entrance exam?

Circa two to three decades ago, parents knew what schools their children would be going to even before they were born. Schools trying to prove their supremacy over their counterparts by marketing their playground, infrastucture, activities, and awards was a bit of a culture shock. I’m sure my father would laugh if I were to show these to him.

But these days there’s more competition among schools than students. All schools claim to be the best. Everyone is looking for child prodigies and hence, entrance exams even for toddlers to prove their caliber!

As I managed to get over the initial shock, I dug a little bit deeper into the flyers and realized that they were flyers for pre-schools – Caterpillar, Kangaroo, Butterfly, Roots, Little Tree, Big Tree, Apples! I could name a few more animals and fruits here.

Pre-schools. Playschools. Play groups. My head was going into a tizzy and I wished there were a dictionary to explain the difference. This was till I read that there’s a Mother-toddler program.

“So the mother has to sit with the child?” I called one of the numbers from the flyers.

“Yes, Ma’m. It is a mother and toddler program. It’s for both of you.” she replied, and I could imagine her rolling her eyes, as she explained the obvious.

“And how old should the child be? Why do I have to be around? Isn’t that the reason we send children to schools, so they learn independently,” me still coming to terms with new school-related jargons.

“The child should be nine months and above,” she replied casually.

Did she just say nine months? Did she just say a few months after the child is born?

I swallowed my obliviousness and continued the conversation unflinchingly.

“But don’t you think that’s way too young? My child has just learnt how to sit. Well, he still tumbles at times.
He can’t even talk.”

“See, Ma’m, we are giving you an opportunity to bond with your child. An hour where you both will spend time using state-of-the-art toys.”

I could not understand why someone would want to pay through their nose just to bond with their children. I hung up, but soon I did find myself in the admission queue for that program. I succumbed to the colourful flyers, just like many other mothers and fathers.

“You are just in time, Ma’m. Only the last couple of seats are available.” The lady at the school information kiosk said as she handed me the admission form, as if she was handing me tickets to the latest blockbuster!

All this makes me wonder if schools are losing all piousness. How do you tell an Institution from a regular school? How do you tell that there is substance beneath all the eye-grabbing flyers? All schools boast about the latest European infrastructure, teachers with post graduate degrees in teaching toddlers, acres of play area, and better student – teacher ratios. But what promise do they hold for the child?

However, I have to concede that the process has improved vastly. No longer will there be a child with roll call 67 (like I was!), standing in a huge group to see someone perform a science experiment with obsolete instruments, pretending to learn. The emphasis on pragmatism and overall development is a progressive move nonetheless.

But I still can’t get over the discount offers, early bird offers that schools are giving.

Later that day, over tea, Ma asked me if I still had the Garbhasanskar CD I had listened to when I was expecting my son. That CD was handed over to me by one of my cousins. Like a precious piece of inheritance. And now I had to hand it down to the next expecting cousin.

“Don’t we all try to make an Abhimanyu out of our child?” said Ma, startling me with a new perspective.

“Abhimanyu? How? Why?” I questioned back, confused.

“YOU want your child to gain knowledge and values right from conception. YOU are always pushing things onto him. YOU want this and that and everything else too. YOU want him to be born as Einstein, grow up as Newton, be like Amartya Sen and somewhere in between he should be an M. F. Hussain and Shakespeare too. Then why blame the schools!”

She came across like thunder and lightning to me, but I could soon feel the raindrops cooling things down. Although it sounded like the chicken and egg story to me, I realized that it is parents who need to look beyond the flyers and see what’s best for our children. There’s no point in playing a blame game as to who is responsible for kids being too mature for their age.

And then Ma spoke again…

“If you ebb, you will stagnate. So it’s time to move on and absorb both, the good and the bad in your stride.”

And indeed, it’s time to flow.