Mission Admission

Aradhika Sharma

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In the cafeteria where Sabrina and I were having a quick elevenses, a young woman, who is usually a picture of smiling composure as she efficiently leads her team, rushed in, grabbed a cup of very strong coffee and sat at the table next to ours, gulping down the caffeine while looking vacantly into space, evidently engaged in an intense internal debate.

“All well, Alka?” Sabrina leaned over and asked. “You look distracted.”

“Hmm? What? Oh yes…. yes, I guess so,” she sighed.

“You look like all the troubles of the world have descended on you,” I remarked.

“Yes. You see, I went to look at schools for my child today,” she explained.

“Your child is just a few months old, isn’t she? You have plenty of time before you start worrying about schools.”

“Not enough time, if you ask me,” she snorted. “I should have started applying as soon as I’d conceived. Parents apply to 25-30 schools, but still don’t get the school of their choice.”

“Don’t worry. There are many good schools opening in the city,” Sabrina exclaimed.

“Maybe, but finally, it’s the brand of the school that matters, nahin?”

“How old fashioned of me — I thought it was the learning that a school offered which was more important,” I smiled.

The young mother wasn’t interested in my opinion. “We’re desperately looking for a political contact. Those can be helpful, you know,” she stated.

“And have you found any?”

“Well, my maid’s sister’s brother-in-law works as a peon in a local MLA’s office. I’ve contacted him. These peon types have their boss’ ear, you know. I’m giving him a stipend of two grand per month till the time comes,”

she replied.

“What if the MLA has lost his seat by then?”Sabrina asked

“That doesn’t matter. The peon toh will remain where he is na. He’ll still have access to an MLA, won’t he?” “Ah!” we said, trying to keep straight faces.

“The thing is, different schools have different parameters,” Alka warmed to what was, obviously, her favourite topic. “Some have the lottery system; others have the point system and some grant admissions on first-come-first-served basis. I’ve employed an IT guy to create an algorithm by which we can beat the system when the time comes for our child’s admission. We’re paying him Rs30,000, you know.”

“Wah! What innovative use of technology!” Sabrina marveled.

“Yes, isn’t it?” she beamed. “One does one’s best for one’s child, hai na?”

“Oh absolutely!” we agreed.

“We’ve worked out a few long-term strategies. We’ve decided to not take leave for a few years so that we can take time off when we have to secure admission for our daughter. We’ll need to stand in the school queues, collect forms, fill them up and revisit the school to submit the documents. Takes time.”

“Wow!”

“Yeah! And we’re saving up to buy a house in Chandigarh.We’ll have to sell our ancestral home in Ambala and move into a 1BHK flat, but it’s got the best-brand schools, na?”

We nodded, wonderstruck at the fanatical planning of the meticulous mother.