The Radiant Star

A recent row of experiences lets me deduce that the pure Nepalese tradition of �being late� every time everywhere is changing very soon. I should rather admit a part of it has already changed. Some of our leaders and some other higher status people may take it as loss of our identity; but our friends who are trying to change their label to �millionaire� from founder principal or teacher are putting in all their effort to effect the change.

Well, to prove the fact, I will put forth my recent experience. Recently, my dear wife gave birth to a cute little girl. The moment I heard the news I nearly fainted, as she was my first child. When the two �she�s were brought back home, three of my relatives (they told me for the first time we were kin!) were eagerly waiting for me with bouquets.

I was surprised. No one brought me bouquets on my marriage (except my ex-girlfriend!). “Congratulations! What a cute baby. She would grow up to be a great woman,” all of them produced the sentence at once as if they had been practicing all day.

“Thank you,” I replied. My two �she�s were taken to the bedroom whereas I went to the visitors room with the threes once. Sipping tea, one of them started, “A child�s future depends on his/her education.” Who is unaware of that? I should have asked, but remained tight-lipped (I learnt to do so after my marriage!).

“Well, all the government schools are void, most of the private schools have big slogans but have nothing for the future star,” the second one informed me. “Ya,” I said lazily.

“That�s where we come in,” announced the third one. “?????,” my eager reaction. “We three have established a school � Future Star Building School,” declared the first one, “We are different and provide quality education; plus we have all the facilities needed for a developing mind.”

“O” I tried to bid good bye to them. “Your daughter�s so talented mind will flourish in our lower secondary school,” the second one said. “I will think after 4 years when she will be able to go to school,” I offered a handshake.

“You will lose out,” the first one said, “we have limited seats.” “Okay, what can I do then?” I asked. “We take provisional admission so, admit her now,” the third one pulled out a form and handed it to me. “Okay, I will do that tomorrow, where is your school?” I wanted to see them off and play with my little cute.

“The old chicken farm adjoined to the rice mill,” one of them answered. “The old chicken farm, it has 8 rooms, where do you teach the students, where do you have the staff room, library and science lab, playing ground and overall what an unhealthy place you have chosen?” “Well we have provision for all facilities, that�s why we are taking provisional admission,” they stood up and made me promise that I will come soon to admit my child.

Similar people visited me regularly for a fortnight and made it a nightmare for me.

They come up with all proposals, discounts, offers and talk about the necessity of quality education, which everyone of them believes can only be achieved in their own school. I did heard about provisional admission before the results of SLC but never thought there could be provisional admission for an infant!!

Fearing more nightmares, I decided for a honeymoon (after two years of marriage).

Published in The Kathmandu Post on 30 March, 2002