My teen is spreading her wings to fly…..Today (24/02/23), for the first time, we escorted our daughter to the examination center for board exams. The feeling was quite different.
We reached quite early (45 minutes) than the instructed entry time, considering the traffic and the first day of the exam.
Several cars were already parked beside the road. Anxious parents stepping out along with their wards. A few of them seemed to be more anxious than the kids. Double-checking whether they have all the necessary articles, the admit card stacked neatly inside a transparent folder, pens, a water bottle, and an ID card.
Kids are busy with last-minute revision. Some busy chit chatting, which I could hear from a distance, “did you read this, did you revise that ” and bla bla. No matter how many times I asked her to just relax and conveyed that whatever she had already studied was enough, studying till the end wouldn’t help; the words simply seemed to vanish into thin air.
Sensing no use, I fixed my gaze on my surroundings, enjoying and recalling my board exam days 🙂 and feeling nostalgic.
My daughter was in her green blazer, which she put on after much persuasion, her argument being that winter is all over. Morning has still to say bye to Delhi, and I did not want her to take any chance of catching a cold. Seeing her warm and in cozy attire among her friends from a distance made me smile. Some arguments are worth winning, especially for parents :-).
At entry, there was a wall with the roll numbers sheet stuck to it, and every newcomer joined the beeline to have a look, some even clicked a pic of it. Felt like the wall must be amused at its fate and enjoyed the limelight of the hour.
Students from different schools crowded near the gate. Different uniforms adorned with different icards looked lovely.
I tried to click a pic of my daughter outside the center amidst hustle and bustle, and she was like, “Mumma, you are embarrassing me, no one is acting like this”. I smiled and could not explain that maybe I am trying to capture and freeze the memory of my exam days through her childhood.
The gate opened, and guards instructed the parents to assemble on one side, making way for the examinees to enter through a narrow opening.
Best of luck echoed, waving bye, last-minute instructions like, check the roll number twice, keep some time aside to revise the paper, relax, don’t worry, all in a flurry. Students entered, parents waited anxiously outside for the next 15-30 minutes, to make sure their wards settled well, just in case they needed something.
Turned out to be true for a girl who came running out only 5 minutes later, up to the barricade for parents, hurriedly looking for someone. Her parents were not to be seen. All of us had a common look, What’s up, child? A gentleman asked, “Beta how can I help?” The girl pleaded for his cellphone to make a call to her parents to ask for the ID card, which she mistakenly forgot in the car. Her restless movement for those few minutes while she waited for them to arrive was like time paused. Their parents rushed with her ID card just in time.
Some students came rushing at the last minute, checking the roll numbers and hall numbers. One of my acquaintances reached 10 minutes past the latest instructed entry time. I could feel the adrenaline rush for him, but his father was cool as ice. He calmed his rushing son, saying, “relax, you have enough time”. I wondered how the world is so diverse, full of different people with different modus operandi. Some are quite early, some just in time, some way beyond. Each one is destined with a place suited to his behavior, his values, his ideology. True that, no two of us are alike.
My husband was in no mood to leave, even after 15 minutes, trying to wait till the paper started. I could persuade him only after assuring him that even in the office, we would be nearby and could rush within minutes if needed. I felt proud to experience a new doting father covering his wings over his daughter to shade her, and our teen strengthening her wings to fly out in the sun 🙂
—–from a mother’s diary
