I expect you to be over nine years of age, and still wondering what a board could mean. Do I mean a piece of timber? Food or meals (room and board) perhaps? A vertical surface on which information could be displayed for public view? A table? An electric switchboard? A platform for playing certain kinds of games? After all, what could a board mean?
If you, in spite of all your wisdom, cannot decide what a board is, how can a nine-year-old child imagine its correct meaning.
I am talking about myself. We lived in Kolkata. I went to a government school. It was my fourth school. Arriving from Varanasi in September, I had joined Class Four almost at the end of the January – December session. The syllabus was quite different, but being a good student I was somehow managing.
One day, as the class was on, an important looking man came and announced something. I did not understand a word, but perhaps the other students did as an “Aaaah,” went up in the air.
I asked my friends what that was all about. They explained that we would have our boards from the next week or so.
Okay, so be it, I thought and went home. By the time I had walked one kilometre or so to home, I had forgotten all about it. It was only at night during dinner that I remembered the important announcement.
“Mummy, we have our boards from next week," I said, chewing between words.
Mummy reacted as if she had touched a live wire. “Board?” “Next week?” “Are you sure?”
I felt sorry about putting her to so much discomfort. Without knowing what the word meant, just to comfort her, I said, “Don’t worry! Waisa board nahin hai.”
“What do you mean ‘waisa board nahin hai’? What kind of board is that? Today is Thursday night. You are saying next week. Oh my God!”
By now I was sure that Board was something very bad and it, perhaps, would have been better had I not disclosed the news to her. However, there was little I could do now.
I looked at her and slowly went to bed. Later in the night I heard voices. Daddy had returned from office and was having dinner. Mummy was telling him, “Agle haftey se bachche ka board ka exam hai. Usko kuchh bhi nahin pata. Date-sheet kya hai, admit card kahan hai, kuchh bhi nahin janta!”
Oh, so I was going to have my exams in another few days, I thought. The next day, from the classroom, I saw Mummy enter the school office. She waited for the school to be over and then we walked back together. She was carrying my admit card and the examination schedule. I looked at her from the corner of my eyes. She was not angry. She was not unhappy, either. Whatever the “Board” was, it was not due to any misdemeanour from my side, I decided.
I grasped her hand and started walking happily.
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