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Let me introduce myself. I am a harried parent about to answer the toughest exam of my life. It is a cold-sweat situation: I wake up in the middle of the night all tense and nervous.

I walk between bedrooms. I wonder whether I am still in school, preparing for that dreaded algebra paper. I dream of alphabets, I wake up to nursery rhymes, I feed on puzzles.

To unravel my plight, I have started reading pop psychology. I am told it is an infection, which passes from parent to parent. Just imagine a city of zombies, all infected, all tense, all suffering from a pre-exam fever.

Everyone is trying to get their tots into the city’s best schools. These four-, five-, and six-year-olds have no clue about what is going on. They appear to have outsourced all their tension to their parents, who are busy reading all kinds of books in case they are caught napping at admission interviews.

I have just joined the zombie brigade. After reading Pedagogy of the Oppressed, Deschooling Society, and watching DVDs of Educating Rita, My Fair Lady and To Sir With Love, I am now hunting for The Effect of Full-Day Kindergarten on Student Achievement: A Meta-Analysis and Poems and Prayers for the Very Young.

I hope the visual and textual knowledge will help me pass any interview with flying colours.

After learning about the experiences of other parents at interviews, I have now created a template that can provide some clues and answers.

I keep reading it, hoping it will help my child get a kindergarten seat. While the interview-template is a broad framework, some of the outrageous exchanges are not entirely false.

Principal (speaking to the child’s father): Good evening, Mr Singh. Thank you for showing an interest in our school. But how did you find us?

Parent: Well, you must be happy to know that you are more famous than Harvard. Two years from now, fathers who send their kids to your school will have a better chance of snagging a job in an MNC.

After all, as the HR saying goes, if fathers make the right choices for their kids, they would take the right calls for their companies. Tomorrow’s companies would prefer holistic CVs, where your child’s school, your wife’s spa, and your favourite mobile game is mentioned. It would provide the employer with a 3-D picture of the employee.

But, to come to your question, I discovered your school on Facebook. My online pal sent me a link, which took me to a threaded discussion on the school. And, here I am…

Principal:Facebook? That is news to me.

Father (realising that he is setting the agenda): Well, to tell you the truth, I have deleted a lot of schools from my shortlist because they were not mentioned in blogs.

Principal (recovering her poise):By the way, how does your kid spend the day after school?

Parent: Oh, he’s a whiz. He pulls out his PlayStation and plays his favourite Gran Tourismo games. Then, he’s watching Cartoon Network and Pogo. When he’s tired of cartoons, he starts boxing with his kid gloves. Do you see the tiny cut on my cheek here? That’s him, with an unkind jab.

Principal: Is he very aggressive?

Parent:Not at all. He is also learning karate, but understands his job is to defend
himself. I want him to understand the harsh realities of life.

Principal: What is his favourite book?

Parent: Well, he is not the bookish type. He is into DVDs, PSPs, and pen drives. He can navigate my iPhone better than anybody.

Principal (addressing the mother):Why did you christen your child Shivaji?

Mother: We love history. His grandfather was keen on naming him Napoleon. But you can’t bring up a child as Napoleon Singh. Naturally, we thought of Shivaji.

Before you jump to conclusions, and wonder whether Singh finally made it, please note that the interview is just an indicator. You need a mixture of bluster and forthrightness to win the day. And, like Singh, you need to blog a lot.

But the ball is in your court. For, your job may soon depend on the school you choose. Frankly, you don’t have a choice.

Or am I wrong?

Email: vinaykamat@dnaindia.net