Joshua's Mother

Kalyani was a teacher. Kalyani taught in a school. Kalyani taught those who need to be taught. Yes, Kalyani was an English teacher who took lessons in the nuances of English grammar, creative writing, prose and poetry. And she taught the parents of her students some life lessons.

Kalyani taught English for Classes VI and VII. Every year she got a new batch of students in Class VI and this year was no different. It had been not even a month since the new academic year had begun, so Kalyani was not yet too familiar with her new batch. Which was why she was trepidatious when she had to take a lesson on family as its theme. She was usually wary of topics such as ‘family’, mother’, ‘father’ and so on because one never knew what students were going through back home. She was brought to this awareness through an incident that happened in her very first year as teacher.

Kalyani was then a Class III teacher. She was doing a poem on mother with the class. The students were all naturally animated, each one trying to outdo the other with their tale of their mother. Through all this enthusiasm, Kalyani noticed one of the girls keeping very quiet. When she went up to her, she found the girl was struggling to stifle her sobs. Assuming that her student was not feeling too well, to which the girl said yes, Kalyani asked her to put her head down on the desk and rest.

The following day, this student’s father met Kalyani and said that the girl didn’t have a mother. She had died about a year ago. Kalyani, of course, apologised to the father but was also angry with him for having withheld such important information from his daughter’s teachers.

This incident had rattled her quite badly and, ever since, she has tried to be careful. Any given batch of students can have parents in a bad marriage, parents divorced or going through a divorce, or can have a parent living away. Of course, it is not possible for teachers to know all these personal details as official registers don’t contain such details, so her diligence had its limitations.

So there Kalyani was, with her sixth graders, discussing family and mother and father and siblings and grandparents when, quite suddenly, one of the boys, Joshua Fernando, made an offhand statement, “I hate my mother.”

“Hey, no one can hate their mother,” retorted a girl in the class.

“I think his mother would not have given him his favourite chocolate drink or would have not allowed him to watch yesterday’s movie on HBO,” laughed another. All the students joined in the laughter, while Kalyani smiled.

Joshua smiled too but maintained, “Hey, I didn’t mean it as a joke. I really hate my mother.”

The turn of the conversation was not a trifle one and Kalyani intervened before other students brought up their own versions of unpleasantness.

“Joshua Fernando, do you realise the intensity of the word you have used? I hope you understand the depth of the word’s meaning.”

“I do, ma’am. I am serious about what I am saying. I really hate my mother.”

Kalyani could trace vehemence in his tone as he added, “My mother has told me several times that I shouldn’t disturb her, that she has no time for me. I hate her for that. I am her son yet she has no time for me.”

“Joshua, who helps you with your lessons at home?”

“My mother,” he said, barely a whisper.

“So, how can you say she doesn’t have time for you? Your mother works in an office, doesn’t she? And yet you say she has no time for you.”

But Joshua was not one to be convinced, so Kalyani brought this conversation to an end. As facilitator, she couldn’t allow such ‘hate’ talk in her classroom.

*************

Joshua dragged his heavy legs, one slow step after another. At this rate, he would never reach home. And he didn’t want to. He kicked a stone that he felt was blocking his way. But it was not the stone that was inhibiting him; it was his thoughts. He was struck with guilt.

“I shouldn’t have been so emphatic...shouldn’t have used that word. How could I say I hate mother?”

Joshua was unusually quiet all evening. Luckily his father was getting late coming back from work that evening, so Joshua was spared explaining to his father why he was so despondent. His father would have noticed it, unlike his mother.

*************

“You know what happened in my Class VI yesterday?” And Kalyani went on to narrate the incident. She was in the staff room, having a free period.

“Joshua? That boy who has a lazy gait when he walks?” said a teacher who taught the higher grades.

“Yes, the same,” replied Latha. Latha had been Joshua’s class teacher when he was in Class II.

“I don’t think much of his mother. She is very strict. She would never approve of her son scoring less marks. During parent-teacher meetings, she would sit with the boy’s answer scripts and go through each and every answer to find out where he’s gone wrong. In spite of all that, the boy’s marks are always average.”

“Have you met Joshua’s mother, Kalyani?” asked Fatima. Fatima was the Hindi teacher. When Kalyani said no, Fatima continued, “You will, she’ll be the first one to arrive for parent-teacher meetings. She is very meticulous in her dressing. And she expects the boy to follow suit. He is always a reluctant player during games period. He would say his mother would scold him if he dirtied his uniform.”

“I sometimes think it’s because he doesn’t run around as much as the other boys of his age that he has that funny gait when he walks.”

“She is very haughty. Probably comes from the high-ranking position she holds in her organisation. And she earns more than her husband.”

“The boy is very fond of his father. The father is a very down-to-earth guy, probably made to feel meek by his dominating wife, ha ha haaa…”

Joshua’s ‘hate’ statement bothered Kalyani. She consciously began observing the boy. Her observations confirmed some of the statements made by the teachers. Joshua was always smartly dressed, he never ran down the school corridors with arms flailing wildly and screaming his lungs out. A casual question put across to the class confirmed his poor participation in games. His fondness for his father was obvious from his frequent reference to his father. Of course, he often brought in his mother too in his statements but there was a difference in his tone and body language as compared to when he spoke of his mother.

Kalyani was also surprised with Joshua’s performance in the 1st Formative Assessment that was going on. He was brilliant in class but that brilliance was not reflected in his paper. He scored a mere 45 on 100.

Maybe a chat with Joshua’s mother would throw some light upon his discrepancy. Kalyani toyed with the idea of calling his mother for a private appointment but Joshua might suspect rightly the reasons for such an appointment.

“That would only get Joshua all flustered. He would never be his comfortable self in my class again. The boy really intrigues me. But I don’t have a choice. I have to wait for the PTM. But, even then, with other parents around, how am I to get across to her, asking for a private chat?”

*************

“Mother, look at this peacock I drew.” Joshua hadn’t quite forgotten his ‘hate speech’ in class and whenever he saw his mother, he had a weird sensation that he couldn’t quite place. He was trying to make amends for it today.

Joshua’s mother, Nancy, was in the kitchen, giving instructions to her domestic help. They were making pasta for dinner. Nancy was still in her work clothes, the lipstick and eye make-up she had worn in the morning still intact.

“Joshua, I am tired. Please understand. I have told you a million times not to come with these stupid things, especially when I am in the kitchen. I don’t have the time for all this.”

Joshua’s face fell. He was turning away reluctantly when Nancy called out to him.

“OK, come here with that. God knows from where you have learnt to pull that long face.”

Joshua’s smile returned as he gave her the paper he was holding on to.

“Is it nice?”

“What is this, Joshua? A peacock with yellow, orange and red coloured feathers in its tail? You know how to do a Google search. Show me one peacock with such feathers. I am very disappointed, Joshua. Look at your formative test results. Pathetic. And on top of that, you waste your time and mine with such foolishness. Go, get your books. I am done here. Let me take a quick shower. I am coming in 10 minutes.”

Joshua looked at the paper his mother had trust back into his hands. He did hate her.

*************

Kalyani’s problem sorted itself out in a manner she least expected.

“Kalyani ma’am, Joshua Fernando is in your class, isn’t he?” asked Nina, the receptionist.

“Yes.”

“His mother, Ms Nancy Fernando, has sent a reply to the circular we had sent yesterday about the date of the PTM. she says she has to travel on that day on official duty, so will it be possible for you to meet her on a normal working weekday? She also asks if she can come with Joshua when school begins in the morning so she can meet you and then proceed to work.”

Their school rules did not encourage parents to meet teachers during class hours unless it was absolutely essential. And that too, only if the Principal allowed it. Kalyani decided to approach the Principal about it.

“I think it’s a good idea, Ms Kalyani. You said you are free in the first period on Tuesday. Ask Joshua’s parents to come with him. You can skip the Assembly. That 20 minutes along with the 40 minutes of your first period will give you a good one hour with her.”

Thanking her, Kalyani went out of her room to where Nina had her desk.

“Nina, could you please fix up an appointment for Ms Nancy Fernando to meet me the coming Tuesday, 8:30 a.m. to 9:30 a.m.?”

*************

Tuesday morning came and even as Kalyani thumbed her biometric she saw Joshua waiting at the reception with a handsome couple. When Kalyani walked up to them, all three wished her. Joshua stood by, shifting from one foot to the other, not knowing what he was expected to do.

“Joshua, I am sorry dear, but you will have to run to class. The bell will go any moment now and you cannot miss the Assembly and your classes.”

The boy looked at his mother hesitantly but his mother smiled at him.

“Yes, Joshua, you need to get to class. Your dad and I will speak to your teacher and leave.”

His father added, “Yes, I will tell you whatever was spoken here today. In the evening, after our football match.”

So Joshua left them, but not wholeheartedly. Kalyani produced Joshua’s answer scripts and his report card and waited in silence for the parents to go through them. She used this time to evaluate the parents. Ms Nancy Fernando was impeccably dressed and so was Mr Fernando. They were very comfortable with each other. There seemed to be no hint of one subordinating the other.

In the distance, students were assembling in the playground for the morning prayer. When the prayer started, Kalyani stood up in reverence and so did Joshua’s parents. When they took their seats again after the prayer, Joshua’s mother smiled at Kalyani and asked her some questions about her son’s performance. While Kalyani gave the required answers, she looked into Nancy’s eyes. These were not the eyes of one haughty with the power of a commanding position. These were eyes that hid grief.

Kalyani stopped mid-sentence and told the parents, “There is something about Joshua that I want to talk to you about. No, not about his performance in the test.”

By now, Assembly was over and students and teachers were filing back to their classrooms. Kalyani let the suspense hang for a while till some of the shuffling subsided. The parents too maintained the unspoken interlude. When much of the quiet was restored, Kalyani began. She told them why she had arranged to meet them during class hours against school rules. As she narrated the ‘hate’ incident, Kalyani noticed Joshua’s mother stiffen ever so slightly. And Joshua’s father slowly putting his hand over his wife’s hand. It was a gesture of support and understanding, something Kalyani had not expected at all. When she was done, silence hung in the air again. Then, the carefully built-up pretense gave way and the tears fell.

“Joshua never had any scruples about showing that he loved his father more than he did me. But I am shocked that he’s had no misgivings to proclaim in front of the whole class that he hated me. Oh, how could he even use that word!”

Though her husband sat stoically, it was evident that he too was as deeply affected. His voice gave him away when he spoke to Kalyani. He was all praise for his wife who did not have it easy getting to where she was in the organisation she was working in.

“And after a heavy day at work, she comes home tired, yet, in spite of having a domestic help, prepares Joshua’s favourite foods for dinner. She then sits with him to check on what has been done for the day at school. I have had a man to man chat with him, told him how concerned his mother is of him, but it seems to have no avail.”

Kalyani had a question for Nancy. “Why did Joshua keep stressing that you often said you had no time for him?”

Nancy narrated the incident of the mis-coloured peacock and a couple of other similar instances too.

“Between finishing cooking dinner and having dinner, we have just about half an hour. And that is the time I get to sit with him. That’s when we look through his lessons. If I have to listen to what his friend, Harish, brought for lunch or talk about his peacock, I wouldn’t get even that half an hour with him.”

“Nancy has been saying she will quit her job so she can spend more time with Joshua. But I have been dissuading her.”

Nancy sobbed a little more at this. “Why must a woman always make the sacrifices? I love my job, otherwise I would have given it up much earlier.”

Kalyani smiled for she understood where the problem lay.

“Ms Nancy, quitting your job to spend more time with Joshua is not going to improve the situation much if you are only going to force his lessons down his throat. Work on finding a solution from where you are now. Joshua is a smart kid. I am sure he can manage his lessons all by himself. Trust him to do it. Give him help only if he needs it. Use that time to be his friend. It might make all the difference.”

“Instead of questioning him about what lessons were taught in school, ask him what was it about school that made him happy that day. Don’t check on his homework, instead, make art with him. So what if he wants an orange peacock or a green sky? Talk to Joshua like you would to an adult. But don’t ever tell him you love him. Show him.”

Just then, the bell rang to signal the end of the first period.

“Ms Nancy, Mr Fernando, I have a class now. I must be going. Please sign the report card once you have browsed through it and hand it over to Ms Nina.”

As the couple stood up to shake hands with Kalyani, she thought she saw something like hope in Nancy’s eyes.

Days passed into months. During those months, Kalyani must have met Nancy about five or six times the most, and always when other parents were around. They never once referred to that meeting again. Joshua’s parents never found an appropriate situation to tell Kalyani how they were going forward with her suggestions. And she didn’t need to hear too. Because, Nancy’s eyes spoke, Nancy’s eyes which glowed with happiness. That, and Joshua’s results.

On the day of the final PTM for the academic year, Mr Fernando brought with him a woman with a telltale tummy. Nancy was pregnant with their second child. The report card they had come to collect said that their son, Joshua, had been promoted to Class VI with top grades.

All was well.