Saturday, December 10, 2011

Admission for PP

Yesterday, it was PP admission in my school for the next academic session. My daughter, clinically 5 years old was, as nervous as her mother. While we walked to the school,I could hear mommy dear giving last-minute tips. What is you name? She answers it. What is your mother's name? What is your father's name? What should you say when you enter the room?And so on. "They wont ask all these questions!", i uttered to pull her out of her nervousness. Some 25 years ago, i had similar bouts when i first went to the school at Sarbhang.I believe i was overaged since both i and my younger sister sat for the same interview: PP admission! I vaguely remember that there were lots of crowds in that hall.While i tightly clung to my father's hand, i had to ask him numerous questions about all the things under the sun. It is never too easy to get admitted in a school. We must be able to touch the left ear lobe with the right hand across the head. That was too easy but i still do not know why we had to do that. Some rounds of questions were asked.I cant recall all of them except one, which i would elaborate later. The final round was a Lucky-dip session. I had to pick from a container, a small folded paper. I picked one up and they read out loudly: 0.
Zero, meant not lucky enough for admission! My sister followed me and she got "S". S meant school! I was shattered but more than that, i was worried about my father's spanking for getting zero! I dont know how i could get the admission but according to my mother's oral records, they halted my sister for another year and requested the admission committee to enroll me instead.
The only question that i remember being asked during that interview was if my father was educated. I nodded affirmatively. "How much?", he asked. That caught me off guard. But, i could deal with surprise crisis rather easily. As i write this, my face lengthens with smile and pride for being able to ward off queries coolly. I was intelligent while i was young, you know! (doubt?). Huh? HOw much? I said "15" and bowed with peaceful bliss. At the far corner, i saw my father smiling at me. I thought it was correct.
Only after decade or so, i could find out that he never crossed 6th grade but that was long, long time ago. He went on to serve the government service till his superannuation. I tell you, he can still beat me in Dzongkha and English handwriting.That is a different story.
So i turn to my daughter and assure her,"Ma dro marey. Appa yoed ba tey!"
Hmm..that is all for today. Good day!

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