IIT JEE – Story for Overambitious Parents

IIT JEE – Story for Overambitious Parents

Fiction Short Story

By

VIKRAM KARVE 

PROLOGUE

ARE YOU AN OVERAMBITIOUS PARENT...?

Are you overambitious parents who desperately want your children to succeed...?

I have seen so many overambitious parents who are willing to do anything – go to any extent – make all sorts of “sacrifices” – in order to ensure that their children “succeed” in their academic studies. 

In the Defence Services – I have seen parents “sacrifice” their married life for the sake of their children’s education – the “faujan” mother lives separately with her children in a city which has good educational facilities – while the “fauji” father lives as a “married bachelor” at his place of posting. 

I remember a case where an officer even quit the military so that he could live in Pune and both parents could concentrate on their children’s education.

I have seen parents remove Television (TV) from their homes (and deprive themselves of their main source of entertainment) – since the parents feel that TV may be a distraction to their children and disturb their studies. 

A lady quit her job when her son entered the 9^th class – so that she could devote all her time to him and ensure that he studies properly. 

Most parents spend huge amounts on Tuitions and Extra “Classes” for their children.

Yesterday – I saw an overly ambitious mother “motivating” her son to study hard and prepare well for the IIT-JEE – the Joint Entrance Examination for admission to the prestigious Indian Institutes of Technology (IITs) 

“You have to get into IIT at any cost...” – she exhorted her son. 

And – just imagine – her son was only in the 9^th class – he still had more than 3 years to go before the IIT-JEE. 

The mother was telling everyone about all the things she was doing to ensure that her son clears the IIT-JEE with high rank and gets admission into a good IIT and gets a choice branch.

The desperation of the overambitious mother reminded me of a story I had written sometime ago.

Here is the story...

IIT JEE – A Story By Vikram Karve 

PART 1

Pune (May 1972)

At the height of the scorching summer of 1972 – two boys sweated it out in the dilapidated drawing hall of the College of Engineering Pune (COEP).

The two boys were appearing for IIT-JEE – the Joint Entrance Examination for admission to the prestigious Indian Institutes of Technology (IITs).

From time to time – the antiquated structure vibrated and reverberated as a train thundered close by on the adjoining railway tracks on the south-east mainline from Pune to Mumbai (then called Bombay).

For two full days – Saturday – the 6^th of May 1972 – and – Sunday – the 7^th of May 1972 – the two boys sat in the sweltering heat – writing 4 papers – in English, Mathematics, Physics and Chemistry – analytical and subjective – each paper of 3 hours duration – 2 papers per day – one in the morning – one in the afternoon.

The papers were tough – and the two boys thought and thought – till their brains went blank – and they wrote and wrote – till their fingers ached – and finally – when it all ended – they collapsed in agony with the sheer mental and physical exhaustion of it all.

While the boys wrote the IIT-JEE exam inside – their fathers waited outside – for the entire two days.

The fathers had personally escorted the boys to the exam venue at COEP in Shivajinagar from their homes in Sadashiv Peth – and back – hiring auto-rickshaws – which was a luxury for the lower middle-class.

During the exam lunch-break – the boys’ mothers – Asha and Usha – came down from their homes bringing cool buttermilk and freshly cooked hot lunch for the boys.

At the end of the exam – both boys said that they had done well – and the parents were happy.

They all lived in Madiwale Colony – a middle class locality in Sadashiv Peth Pune – where most parents with bright sons had one ambition – their son should get into an IIT – and there he would strive for a 9+ point CGPA – a passport to the “land of opportunity” – for higher studies in a good university – the best way for a middle-class boy to migrate abroad – to realize his American Dream – and then – he would find a suitable “NRI” groom for his sister there – so that she could follow.

But in the story I am narrating – the two boys were the “only child” of their parents – and their parents had left no stone unturned to ensure that their sons successfully cleared the IIT-JEE.

Both the fathers worked as clerks in a government office.

They cycled to their offices every day on their old bicycles.

Both of them had sacrificed their dreams of buying a scooter – using the money to pay for IIT Coaching Classes for their sons.

The two mothers too had done all they could to facilitate the studies of their sons – in fact – for the last two years – as their sons were preparing for the IIT-JEE – both mothers thought of nothing else and they were totally were obsessed with their respective son’s studies.

The two families were next door neighbours – they were best friends and had developed a very close relationship.

Now – after the ordeal was over – the parents were happy – the boys had said that they had done well in the exam – and they all eagerly awaited the IIT-JEE results which would be announced in early June.

PART 2

Pune (June 1972)

The IIT-JEE results were declared.

Asha’s son successfully cleared the IIT-JEE.

However – Usha’s son did not qualify in the IIT-JEE.

And – this changed the relationship between their parents – especially between the mothers – Asha and Usha.

Asha celebrated her son’s success in lavish style – she held a Puja followed by a lavish dinner – for which the entire neighbourhood was invited.

Asha was ecstatic with joy: “I am so happy my son has got into IIT…” she told everyone.

Asha loudly boasted about her son’s achievement in the presence of Usha – and made certain boastful remarks – which were perceived as sarcastic and insulting by Usha – and this caused a fissure in their relationship which was beyond repair.

in due course – Asha’s son went for counseling to IIT Powai at Mumbai – and soon – he joined the same IIT for the B. Tech. Course in Electrical Engineering.

Usha’s son – who had failed to clear the IIT Entrance Exam – joined the local college for the First Year B. Sc. Course (FY) – and he would try for admission to the local Engineering College after his FY.

Those days – you joined IIT after your Pre-Degree (PD/ Class 11) – for the 5 Year B. Tech. Course.

And – you joined other Engineering Colleges after completing your First Year B. Sc. (FY) for the 4 Year BE Course.

The next year – Usha’s son got admission in the local Engineering College.

After completing his B. Tech. – like most IIT graduates – Asha’s son migrated to the US to complete his MS at a prestigious University – and thereafter – he stayed on in the US to realize his “American Dream”.

After finishing his BE – Usha’s son took a job in the local industry in Pune.

As Asha’s son flourished in America – like most “Parents of NRI’s” – their lifestyle changed – and after some time – Asha and her husband relocated to a posh apartment in the upmarket locality of Deccan Gymkhana – which was bought by their NRI son.

For Usha and her husband – nothing much changed – and they continued to live in Madiwale Colony in Sadashiv Peth.

The ‘emotional distance’ due to the fissure in their relationship – and the ‘physical distance’ between their homes – resulted in Asha and Usha losing close contact with each other.

Even on rare occasions when their paths crossed – Usha scrupulously avoided Asha – and on seeing this – Asha started doing likewise – so – even when they came across each other – Asha and Usha did not talk to each other.

A few years later – Usha’s son bought a flat in a distant suburb near his factory.

(Those days – decent housing was quite affordable in such remote suburbs of Pune) 

Usha and her husband vacated their rented home in Madiwale Colony and moved to live with their son and daughter-in-law as a ‘joint family’.

After this – Asha and Usha totally lost contact with each other.

PART 3

43 Years Later

Pune (June 2015)

By now – both Asha and Usha were old widows in their 80’s.

Asha’s son was now well-settled in America.

Earlier – Asha frequently visited her son and daughter-in-law in America for ‘nanny duties’ – but – after a few years – when her grandchildren grew up – and with her son and daughter-in-law busy in the careers – Asha felt bored and ‘unwelcome’ – and so – she stopped her visits to America.

As I told you earlier – Usha lived with her son and daughter-in-law in a suburb of Pune – and over the years – this once remote suburb had now become a much sought after locality.

Whereas Asha’s ‘American’ son had achieved spectacular material success – Usha’s son had a reasonable career in the industry and would happily retire in a few years – and they all lived together as a ‘joint family’ – Usha – her son and daughter-in-law – and her grandchildren who were now in college.

One evening – Usha ran into Asha at a wedding reception at a hotel near Deccan Gymkhana.

In the presence of the newlyweds – to keep up appearances – Asha and Usha exchanged fake smiles of forced geniality.

After the event was over – Usha’s son saw Asha struggling to walk with the help of a walking stick – so went up to help her.

Usha’s son offered to drop Asha home.

“Thanks – but it is okay – I will go by taxi – the reception will call a taxi for me…” Asha said.

“Why call a taxi…? I will drop you in my car. You live in the same place in Deccan Gymkhana, isn’t it…?” Usha’s son said.

“No – I don’t live there anymore…” Asha said.

“Oh – so you have shifted to a better house…?” Usha asked.

Asha looked at Usha – then she looked at Usha’s son – and – after a pause – Asha said: 

“No – I haven’t shifted to a better house – I live in an ‘Old Age Home’…”

“Old Age Home…?” Usha’s son asked, surprised.

“Yes – it is quite far away – please call a cab for me…” Asha said.

“No – No – we will drop you…” Usha said.

They all got into the car – Usha and Asha in the rear – and Usha’s son and his wife in front.

After a long time – Asha and Usha talked – about their sons – their grandchildren – their husbands – and about themselves – about the 43 years gone by.

When they reached the ‘Old Age Home’ – Asha said to Usha: 

“Do you remember how happy I was when my son had got into IIT…? Now – I sometimes wish that he had not got into IIT…”

“What are you saying…?” Usha said. 

With tears in her eyes – Asha said:

“Yes – those days – it was my life’s desire that my son clears the IIT Entrance Exam. 

I wanted my son to do well in IIT – and then – I wanted him go abroad to America for higher studies – and get a good job in the US – and permanently settle down there in America to realize the “Amercian Dream” .

Yes – I was so happy when he was selected for IIT. 

But – nowadays – when I feel lonely – waiting for death in the “old age home” – sometimes – I really feel – it would have been better if my son had not passed the IIT Entrance Exam.

Yes – it would have been much better if my son had not got into IIT…” 

There were tears in Asha’s eyes as she was speaking.

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve 
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:

This story is a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the story are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:

No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (all rights reserved)

This Blog Post is the Revised and Abridged Version of my Story IIT JEE written by me Vikram Karve on November 25, 2015 and and posted online by me Vikram Karve in my blog at urls: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2015/11/iit-jee.html  and http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2016/09/a-story-for-ambitious-parents-iit-jee.html  and http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2017/01/overambitious-parents-and-successful.html and http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2017/06/iit-jee-story.html etc

Why Do People Migrate – Conversation with a Taxi Driver in Auckland

WHY DO PEOPLE MIGRATE...?

Whenever I ask my people who have migrated abroad why they migrated to a new country – they always say: ‘We migrated for a “Better Life”...’ 

I did not exactly understand what they really meant by “Better Life”.

During my visit to New Zealand a few months ago – I met some people who had migrated to New Zealand for a “Better Life”.

And – after talking to them – I began to understand a bit – though not very clearly.

But – it was after this conversation with the taxi driver in Auckland – that the meaning of “Better Life” became crystal clear to me.

A “BETTER LIFE”

Conversation with a Taxi Driver in New Zealand

By

VIKRAM KARVE

The taxi arrived on the dot at 6:30 AM – as booked.

We checked out of our hotel in Parnell Auckland – and soon – we were on our way to Auckland International Airport to catch the flight to Seoul – the first leg of our return journey to India.

We had left Pune on the evening of the 21^st of December 2015 – to catch our flight which took off from Mumbai in the wee hours of the 22^nd of December – and now – it was the 8^th of January 2016 – our 18 days in New Zealand had passed in a jiffy – one of the most enjoyable periods of our life.

Like all Taxi Drivers – our taxi driver was smartly dressed – navy blue trousers, white shirt and light blue tie.

He was tall and fair – but looked of Indian descent.

The taxi driver said “good morning” – and helped us with our luggage.

“If you don’t mind – we will drop off our daughter on the way at Epsom,” I said to the taxi driver.

“Sure, Sir,” he said.

We dropped off our daughter near her lodgings at Epsom – a 3 minute drive from our hotel – and continued on our way to the Airport 20 kilometres away.

“Are you from India, Sir…” the taxi driver asked.

“Yes…” I said.

“Is this your first visit to New Zealand…?” the taxi driver asked me.

“Yes…” I said.

“You came to meet your daughter…?” he said.

“Yes – and we did a bit of sightseeing too – all over the South Island – and around Auckland…” I said.

Suddenly – it started raining heavily.

“The weather is very fickle over here,” I said, “one day it is sunny and hot – and the next day it gets rainy and cold.”

“Sir – they say that in New Zealand – you sometimes get all the 4 seasons in one day…” he said.

“Are you also from India…?” my wife asked the taxi driver.

“I am from Lahore – but now I am a citizen of New Zealand for many years…” he said, “I came here more than 20 years ago.”

“Why did you migrate to New Zealand…?” I asked.

“For the sake of my children – I wanted them to get good education and have a ‘Better Life’…” he said.

“So you came here for a ‘Better Life’…?” I asked.

“Yes – I am happy I came here – my children got the best education free of cost – now - they have got good jobs and have settled down here – and I really have achieved a ‘Better Life’ here in New Zealand than what I would have got back home…” he said.

“That’s good…” I said.

“You know, Sir – what is the status of taxi drivers back there – but here – there is ‘dignity of labour’ – all types of jobs are respected equally – and even financially – you can earn a decent amount of money…” he said.

“Yes – I saw that everywhere – irrespective of the job they are doing – everyone seems to have self-esteem and are well-mannered, polished and educated…” I said.

“Sir – over there – you have to worry about your old age – but here – in New Zealand – once you become a citizen – you get all sorts of social security schemes and welfare allowances – unemployment benefit if you lose your job – they even pay your rent, if required – a superannuation pension – and all your needs are looked after by the government till you die…” he said.

“Really…?”

“Sir – back home – ‘healthcare’ for old age is a big issue – but here – you get top-class healthcare totally free – just last year – my wife had a knee replacement operation – and I did not spend a single penny – in fact – they even provided a wheelchair and special bed at my home for her period of convalescence – totally free of cost…” he said, “Sir – over there – you have to save money for your old age – especially for medical treatment in your old age if you fall ill – but here – you don’t have to save anything – since everything is looked after…”

“So you are very happy that you migrated to New Zealand for a ‘better life’…” I said.

“Yes – we are really having a much ‘Better Life’ over here than what we would have had over there – especially my children…” he said.

“Don’t you miss your roots…?” I asked.

“20 years ago – when I first came – I did miss my original country – and I used to visit once in 2 years – but now – New Zealand is my country – and our children are settled over here – there is nothing left back there for me now – so I hardly visit Lahore – in fact – I have not gone for the last 5 years…” he said.

The taxi had arrived at the Airport – and I bid “goodbye” to the taxi driver.

Earlier – when people who were migrating abroad to foreign countries would say that they were going there for a “Better Life” – I did not exactly understand what they really meant.

But now – after the conversation with the taxi driver in Auckland – the meaning of “Better Life” was crystal clear.

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve 
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:

This story is a work of fiction.  Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the story are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice

No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (All Rights Reserved)

Copyright © Vikram Karve (all rights reserved)

Revised Re-post of my story A BETTER LIFE posted by me Vikram Karve online earlier in my Academic and Creative Writing Journal Blog on 11 January 2016 at url: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2016/01/a-better-life-conversation-with-taxi.html  and revised and reposted at url: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2016/04/people-migrate-for-better-life.html

NRI CHILDREN – ASSET or LIABILITY?

NRI CHILDREN – ASSET or LIABILITY?

Short Fiction – An Apocryphal Story

By

VIKRAM KARVE

My peer group comprises my classmates from school and college, my ex-navy and ex “fauji” military veteran buddies, and my friends, all in their late 50’s or early 60’s.

Whenever we meet, I realize that one notable fact pertaining to my peer group is that almost everyone has NRI children.

[I use the term NRI (Non Resident Indian) quite generically for all Persons of Indian Origin (PIO) settled abroad, including those who have adopted citizenships of their host countries]

At one such gathering, I met a friend – my school classmate.

She was an “NRI Mother” – or to put it correctly – she was the “mother of an NRI daughter”.

Her only child, a 27 year old married daughter, had settled down abroad in America with her husband.

“Nice to see you after a long time,” I said to my friend.

“Yes – I was abroad for almost one year – in the US,” she said.

“America? Wow!” I said.

“Last year, my daughter got pregnant – so she called me to America to look after her during her pregnancy days – and then, after her delivery, she wanted me to stay and look after the baby – so I stayed on there in the US for almost 6 months,” she said.

“Isn’t it our tradition that daughters come home, to their mother’s place, for their first delivery? Your daughter could have come here to Pune for her delivery,” I said.

“Are you crazy or something?” she asked.

“Why?”

“My daughter wanted her child to get US citizenship by birth. If the baby is born here in India, how will the baby get American citizenship?”

“Oh!” I said, “So you stayed there in America for 6 months after her delivery, did all the baby care, and then came back,” I said.

“Yes – but my daughter called me again for child-care “nanny” duties, till her baby was old enough for day-care, since she wanted to get back to work – it was important for her career that she started working as quickly as possible,” she said.

“So you went to America again?”

“Yes – for 6 months – till the baby was almost one year old,” she said.

“Oh – but now it is finally all over – and you’ll be staying here in Pune now…” I said.

“No – I am going again…” she said.

“You are going again to America…? Why…?”

“My daughter’s job is very hectic – so she wants me to do “nanny” duties and look after her child.”

“But your daughter’s child must be around one year old now – can’t the child be kept in a day-care centre?”

“I don’t know,” my friend said, “but my daughter insisted that I come because she wants her child to be looked after properly by me – so that the child imbibes our culture.”

“Culture…?” I said, astonished – and as I recovered my wits – I noticed that an old lady had walked over and joined us.

I knew the old lady – she was my friend’s mother.

I knew the old lady’s husband (my friend’s father) too.

My friend – their daughter – was their only child.

The old couple lived in a beautiful bungalow in the Lonavala – a picturesque hill station near Pune – and I had once visited them over there a few years ago.

I did not see the old lady’s husband around, so I asked the old lady, “How is uncle?”

“You don’t know…?” the old lady asked me.

“What…?”

“My husband died 3 months ago…” the old lady said.

“Oh – I am very sorry…”

“It’s okay – he was 84 years old – but he was absolutely fit till the last day. Though I miss him very much, one consolation is that he died when he was fit and healthy…” she said.

I did not say anything.

The old lady looked at me, and she said to me, “And by the way – I have shifted to an old age home…”

“Old Age Home…?” I asked, shocked.

“What to do…? I cannot live in that huge secluded bungalow all alone…” the old lady said.

“But why go to an old age home…? Why don’t you live with your daughter in Pune…?” I asked.

“Of course I would like to live with my daughter,” the old lady said, “given a choice, I certainly would not like to live in an old age home – but do I have a choice…?”

I did not say anything – I just kept looking at the old lady, not knowing what to say.

Seeing the confused look on my face, the old lady said, “Didn’t my daughter tell you? Her daughter, my granddaughter, has called her to America for babysitting and nanny duties – she will be away in America for 6 months – and then she may have to go back to America again and again – for the next delivery – and babysitting and nanny duties for the next child – so who is going to look after me here? I am 80 now – so it is better for me to live in an old age home…”

I looked at my friend, and wondered at her predicament.

On one side stood her recently widowed mother, pleading not to be sent to the old age home.

On the other side stood her daughter, beseeching her to come to America to take care of her baby.

She had a duty to look after her old widowed mother.

But she felt the strong pull of motherhood towards her daughter.

She was torn between her loyalty to her mother and her love for her daughter.

And in her case – her motherly love for the daughter had prevailed over her filial duty towards the mother.

EPILOGUE

Persons of my generation, in their 50’s and 60’s, who are parents of “NRI Children”, are in a Catch-22 situation.

They are expected to look after their parents, who may be in their 70’s and 80’s.

But their “NRI Children” also have “expectations” from them – especially from their mothers – during childbirth for “midwife” duties, and later, for baby care and surrogate parenting “nanny” duties.

That is why I often wonder:

Are “NRI Children” an asset or a liability?

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve 
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:

This story is a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the story are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:

No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (all rights reserved)