My older daughter and I have been fighting a lot lately. The squabbles
spill over to the younger one as well. So often enough you have the three women
of the house flouncing in three different directions, heads in the air, not on
talking terms with each other! No wonder my poor husband, who is painfully
out-numbered, runs away each evening to his Chambers.
That said, I must admit it’s not only raging teenage
hormones. Often, it is me. Goading them to study, change out of the school
uniform (after all they came home from school four hours ago!!), finish the
damn milk, clear the study table, clean up the mess they made in the kitchen (I
tell you ever since Maggi has come back to the shelves, you won’t believe the amount
that has been cooked and consumed by the girls!!!) etcetera, etcetera,
etcetera.
You see, one child is sitting for her ICSE next February.
That’s about 2 months away. Let’s face it. The child in question does not have
a brilliant track record. She loathes Science and Maths. But as we all are
aware, ICSE has Maths and Science and you need to pass the subjects to clear
the ICSE. And only then can you move on to subjects that are more appealing. I’ve
said this softly. I’ve said it loudly. I’ve said it lovingly. And I’ve said it
angrily. Somehow the penny does not seem to drop. She gazes at me unflinchingly
and asserts that she is studying.
You know, I’d love to believe her. And I do believe she
thinks she is studying. But do the kids know HOW to study? Are they retaining
anything? Do they write things down, do they make notes, do they jot down the
important points? More importantly, do they teach these things in school? I don’t
know. All I know is that I wander into their room where the girls are
purportedly studying and find them both sitting with their legs on the chair,
books open in front of them. (I must be a terrible mom: I haven’t even managed
to teach them how to sit on a chair! My daughters assure me that even in school
everyone sits like that, as if it is some consolation!) Anyway, the table is a
mess with books, papers, story books, files and an assortment of pens
(obviously without their caps) lying about. Often a glass or mug or bowl of
some half-eaten snack is balanced precariously on all that. As they say, if you
looked you could find an elephant in there! How can one study in that kind of an
environment? I could ignore all that if I thought they were actually studying.
One is cleaning her fingernails with the studiousness of a Buddhist monk. The other
has one eye on her new phone (she got her first phone on her 15th
birthday about a fortnight ago) and the other on some card she is making for
some friend at school!!! I growl. I confiscate the phone. I take the other one
too, for good measure. The girls sit up, yes, yes, they are studying they
assure me.
This routine with minor variations is pretty common. Amid all
that, often, they are fighting. In our household sibling rivalry has been
perfected to a fine art. And the rules are simple. If I can hear them, they are
in trouble. I do not care who started it or what she said or did. If I have to
get up and go to the room, they are in trouble. So nowadays when they fight it’s
like one boom and then silence. There are sounds of frantic whispering and a
thud. Sometimes a shriek and “I’m telling!” Then silence. I call
out from the next room, “what’s happening?” “Nothing,” comes the prompt reply,
in chorus! Often these outbursts end with one child moving to the dining table
to study while the other sulks or vice versa... I try not to involve myself. As
they say, don’t trouble trouble till trouble troubles you!
Anyway
getting back to where I was. Studying. I generally do not panic but as the ICSE
looms ahead I find myself worrying. What is good enough? One mother is busy
collecting question papers. Another calls to ask what text book is taught in
the other school. I run about collecting notes. It looks like only the mothers
worry. The little darlings are busy dancing to the fiddler in their own heads
to music only they can hear.
And whenever
I see my daughter I swear it’s like she has ICSE written in bold neon letters on
her forehead. All I seem to say is “go study,” “have you studied?” “are you
studying?” or words to that effect. She growls back at me, that’s all she has
been doing apparently! She storms off, she doesn’t want to talk to me or so she
says! The younger one suffers along with her sister. How can you have one child
studying and the other loafing about and watching TV? She has been told to sit
at the desk and do something useful. Write an essay or whatever! She sulks. She
wants her phone back. I give it, but refuse to turn on the wi-fi. She doesn’t say
it but I can see she doesn’t want to talk to me either!
Truth is, sometimes
I tell them to go study and regret it immediately. I think it isn’t fair. I
wish I could let them do what they want. I wish I could tell them that
ultimately these exams will not matter. In the long run what they do with their
lives will not depend solely on their school results or Board Exams. I wish I
could tell them that despite that I will keep goading them because I want them
to have lives of “choice” and not “chance”. I wish I could tell them that
happiness has nothing to do with the grades they get or the subjects they study.
Ah no, I can never tell them that. I must be the evil mother, the relentless bullying
harridan in their lives. For I know I may not be there to hold their hands
forever. And I only wish to ensure that they have the strongest wings so that
they can be straight and true when it is their turn to fly.
