Piku barged in through the door, dropped his bag on the sofa. More significantly, he also dropped a bombshell on his unsuspecting parents.

"The principal wants to meet you guys tomorrow morning."

The Chowdhurys looked at each other, their faces ashen.

"Why?" they asked. Piku shrugged. He had more important things to do, like playing PUBG.

The Chowdhurys began to squabble. Each blamed the other for poor parenting skills, lack of responsibility, commitment issues and other factors which had so affected their child that here was the principal of the elite school, the fees of which they were paying through their nose, actually summoning them to answer for something despicable that their son had done.

"You think he teased a girl?" Mr Chowdhury quavered.

"He's eight, boys that age hate girls. ''

"What about his grades?" he asked glumly.

"He got two Ds but that was last month."

"I remember" she said slowly. "He came home with a black eye last week."

"You've given birth to a delinquent." "He's got your genes too."

"On a scale of one to ten, what does this mean?" wondered Mr Chowdhury.

"One - the principal will just tick us off for being loser parents. Ten - Piku will be asked to be shifted to another school."

"How well do you know the principal?" "She is an ex-Brigadier's wife. Heard she terrorises him."

Ten struck the following morning. The Chowdhurys sat stiffly before the principal. She smiled at them.

"Does your son like this school?" "He loves it" they said in a tremulous quaver.

"Good! She smiled," we are building a new auditorium in the school. We are approaching parents for help in the project. How much can you give?" "Anything you want!" they said together. "Anything!"


Indrani Raimedhi