Disclaimer: This is a personal experience. Any resemblance to any harrowed mother or shrugging father wary of parent-teacher meetings anywhere is purely coincidental, and understandable. You have my empathy.
Mumbai was enveloped by angry grey clouds ready to lash and drown everything they towered upon that day. The pleasant feel-good drizzling of the day before had suddenly taken a horrifying shape. Normally a fan of everything rains, my anxiety rose with every howl of wind as it violently crashed against our glass windows. News of water-logging across the city blared around the house even as A was warned to keep it down. I performed my morning puja fervently praying for a miracle. A small break from this onslaught or a message from A Jr’s class teacher cancelling the parent-teacher meeting was welcome. Alas, none seemed remotely possible.

I’m a mom of two but for the sake of this post let’s discuss the firstborn’s antics. Believe it or not, 16yo A Jr’s parent-teacher meetings make me as nervous as they did back when he was in Playgroup. Don’t take me wrong, the boy’s a delight but was and is full of quirky surprises. On one hand, his teachers love how he contributes in class and scores well, while on the other, they have endless complaints about his less-than-ideal and often silly, disruptive behaviour. A perfect example of Jekyll and Hyde syndrome if you ask me.
Hopping from the cab in front of his school gate in knee-deep water I silently berated myself for wearing a salwar suit (until realisation dawned that no mother wears shorts for her teenage son’s parent-teacher meeting?!). Despite carrying an umbrella, we were soaked (and I was irritable) by the time we reached the main hall. His class is on the third floor and I felt a tad smug for not breaking a sweat or gasping for breath. Entering into his class was another story though.
As we walked in, the few kids in the class exchanged amused, spent looks with A Jr. Their parents were poring over their mark sheets and trying to act cool while invisible smoke came out of their ears. The class teacher was playing the passive-aggressive act with a mother-daughter duo in front of her. The girl concentrated on the ‘Welcome to Parent-Teacher Meeting’ writing on the whiteboard while A Jr smartly fetched his file and pulled me to the back. He allowed me all of two minutes with every paper quickly summarizing where he lost marks and pretended not to listen to my ‘I told you so’s.
The teacher humbly greeted us as we both took our seats with her. Bracing for the worst (why, I didn’t know then) A Jr was trying hard to keep a straight face. After the customary discussion about his attendance and marks (both of which were good), Ma’am asked him bluntly, “Does your mother know about your punishment?” With guilt pasted on his face, he looked into my wide shocked eyes. Ma’am instantly saw through it and filled me in. “Ma’am, he was kept in isolation for talking and disturbing the class.”
“You mean, as in solitary confinement? That’s for criminals!” I blurted out. “No Ma’am, I mean I made him sit at the bench far in the back so he couldn’t talk to anyone.” She added somewhat nervously. I nodded in understanding and let it go, assuring her he would behave in the future. We ranted about ‘never during our time’ stuff and today’s unruly generation’s lack of discipline. A couple of minutes later we took her leave but A Jr knew that I wasn’t done with him.
“Is this what I have to attend your parent-teacher meeting for? Why didn’t you tell me and what did you do to deserve it?” I snapped at him the moment we stepped out of the class. He must’ve thought it through since his instant animated answer made me laugh. “Mamma, Ma’am talks very softly and we can’t listen to her many times. We were discussing the point she had taught us when she saw me talking. That isolation thing was a joke. I tried conversing with two girls closest to my bench but they grinned and said they’d tell Ma’am. Such tattletales! And know what, I got bored and was back on my bench after two lectures but she couldn’t figure that out till the end of the day. She forgot all about me and is complaining to you now! I reserve my right to be given a rightful hearing. My marks are ok na, so please chill. Can I have an ice cream?”
I didn’t know what to say. Can you blame me? This became a hilarious anecdote at home at his expense. From locking him up in the bathroom to leaving him on the balcony to mull, he has been threatened by all of us for not toeing the line. The boy’s as tough as they come and replies shamelessly, “You love me, you won’t do that.”
Sadly, he’s right.
This post is a part of Blogchatter Half Marathon 2024
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