Privilege or Penalty

I rang the bell a couple of times and then waited. Nobody opened the door. I pressed it again and again. Finally, I could hear hurried footsteps and a visibly disturbed Deepa opened the door, mobile in her hand. As she hurried back to her room, she scowled at me and complained – “Why don’t you carry the spare key with you when you go out, Mama? You know I can’t cut short my on-line classes. They are so, so important.”

They were, really. Deepa, my twenty-five-year-old daughter was planning to appear for the competitive examinations as she was very keen to get a government job. She was a sincere and hardworking student. She used to start the day with her notes and the on-line classes, which she was almost addicted to. During breaks of 2 or 3 hours in between these classes, she would work on Mathematics, Reasoning etc. In fact, her day was almost packed. Besides knowledge and information, these online classes had also helped her to make new friends. We live in COVID times where the only communication we have with our friends is by means of the mobile. Thus Deepa found a fast friend in Rachna, a fellow on-line student and candidate for the competitive exams.

I made 2 cups of coffee for myself and for Deepa. As I neared her door, I could hear her in deep conversation with someone over the mobile. Her tone was earnest as though she was trying her best to convince the unseen person. I wondered. Who could it be? As I stepped in I realized that my guess was correct---Rachna. Rachna had a booming, cheerful voice and I could hear the entire conversation.

“Arre, come on Deepa. Let’s go and visit the exhibition at Tandel Ground. I am bored stiff.”

“Oh no!” my daughter replied with concern. “I am still lagging behind in my Maths portion. And we had only one more week before the exams.”

So what? It’ll be done. We need to look after ourselves too, don’t we?”

“Have you completed everything? Are you thorough with your preparation?” asked my daughter bewildered.

“You know Deepa; I am not really worried. I will most probably get selected. I am from the ‘Reserved’ category.” She was laughing gleefully, confidently

My daughter put down her mobile quietly and looked at me with a strange expression in her eyes which seemed to say “Am I to be blamed for taking birth in a community that is in the ‘General’ category?

“Is it fair mama,” Deepa spoke with feeling, “I slog day and night with my books. I am desperate to get a job. But when the results come out, who are the ones selected? Mostly those in the ‘Reserved’ category. Don’t we in the ‘General’ category have a right to anything?”

“Why didn’t you ask God to send you to a family belonging to the ‘Reserved’ category? Why did you take birth in a ‘General’ category family where you have to work doubly hard to achieve anything and opportunities are also cut short” --- I tried to laugh it off to calm her down. “Oh, come on, have some coffee. You’ll feel fresh.”

I could understand her feelings. She had appeared for the exams last year too and had missed selection only by two marks. But the “cut-off” marks for those in the ‘Reserved’ class was way below that of others. And their age bar was much higher giving them chance after chance every year. And who are these individuals who do get selected from the ‘Reserved’ category? They are neither economically nor socially backward as we are expected to believe. They are mostly over confident, assertive people who feel that they are born to be selected for the right post, get promotions out of turn, get admissions into colleges even with minimum marks.

This reminds me of a colleague from the school I taught in Pune. ---Sunita. I was still new to the idea of the special benefits meant for those in the ‘Reserved’ category. Sunita’s son Rahul, who was my student, regularly spent 15 minutes of a period of 40 minutes, looking out of the window, 15 minutes making paper pellets and shoving them down the collar of the boy in front or flicking them to the boy next to him and remaining time dozing. But you had to admire both mother and son for one quality---neither was greatly worried about the boy’s academic performance nor about his future.

One day while talking casually, Sunita happened to mention---“You know, we belong to the Nomadic Tribe.”

“Oh really?” I asked in surprise. “You must have had a tough time during your childhood, getting education while travelling from place to place and staying in tents.”

She broke into peals of laughter. Finally, after wiping her eyes, she explained to me as one would to a mentally retarded 3 year old— “No madam, I had a wonderful childhood. My father is a doctor and my mother a professor. Travelling, staying in tents, no permanent houses---those are things my ancestors did—may be 200 years ago.” And she walked off still laughing.

Two years later, her son Rahul managed to pass out of school with 40% marks. He got admission easily in a reputed Engineering College, thanks to his ancestors, while many deserving students of the ‘General’ category struggled for admission. But every evening when I went for a walk or to buy vegetables I had to cross the main junction, close to Sunita’s house. I could see Rahul standing with a group of youngsters, chatting, gossiping, smoking, till the shops pull down their shutters.

While other students sat drowned in piles of books, this lucky boy sailed through life with no worry. He knew that a job would be waiting for him just as the College admission did.

Please do not misunderstand me, folks. I am not averse to the idea of the backward getting help and support in order to be at par with others. In fact, it is the prime and noble duty of society and of each one of us to reach out to the less fortunate of our brethren. But our society, or simply put, the system, should see to it that the help given really goes to those who need it and deserve it. Secondly it should not eat into the rights of other deserving people, especially when resources and scarce. A mother of 3 will and should take special care of her sick child, but not at the cost of the well-being of the other two.

Besides, she should nurse her sick child, but how long? Once the child is fine and full of health and spirits, she should allow him to run and play with others, rather than mollycoddle him. That is detrimental to his health and will make him grow up to be a weak individual, who cannot live without special favors. It will also create a divide among the children.

True, the’ backward’ class was at the receiving end of a lot of injustice. But can we wipe out the injustice meted out to one group with injustice to another? Do young, bright, aspiring, hardworking boys and girls of society in general have to pay for something that was certainly not in their hands?

So long as the Rahuls and the Rachnas are offered admissions and jobs on a platter, we shall be entrusting our health to one of them in the form of a doctor, we shall be walking over bridges, shopping in malls, living in buildings planned and designed by them, little realizing the possibility that they may collapse over us. These are the 40 percenters who were presented admissions and jobs based on their status as ‘Reserved’ category. Aren’t we mocking at values like sincerity, perseverance and sheer hard work? Is this the future we want for our children?