A 9-year-old's election as headboy is contested in court
DEMOCRACY, as duly demonstrated by our politicians, can be a dirty business. At the Delhi Public School (DPS), Noida, what began as a learning exercise in democracy has fast degenerated into a theatre of the absurd with nine-year-olds being shouldered offstage by aggressive adults. The Last Act, titled Head Boy vs Head Boy, is being played out in court.
The curtain rose on this bizarre drama last month when DPS held its annual election for head boy of the Junior School Wing. Sixteen candidates from the six Class IV sections were shortlisted in order of merit and allowed a fortnight to muster support with election promises ranging from clean toilets and cold water to jam sandwiches and extra swimming hours. With 755 students from classes I to IV voting, the idea was to give pupils a feel of democracy, with much fun and camaraderie thrown in. What it hadn't bargained for were—hold your breath—charges of rigging. The allegation: Abhimanyu George Jain, the elected head boy, was unfairly chosen over Vidur Singhal, who, father Sanjay felt, was much more suited for the appointment. The outcome: an ugly battle in the Delhi High Court—Singhal on behalf of minor son Vidur vs DPS (Noida).
"My first reaction was, it's hilarious," says Saavyasaachi Jain, Abhimanyu's father. "But it's taken on the dimensions of a joke gone sour. We believe in not being pushy but Mr Singhal is impinging on my son's rights." Adds a bewildered Mimmy, Abhimanyu's mother: "We have been trying to raise a problem-free child. What right does Singhal have to create problems for him?" Singhal, in a letter to junior wing headmistress Renu Saxena, has alleged that "the announcement throws a poor light on the calibre, potency and values of DPS teachers at large...my child will not be led by average minds who do not qualify to be class monitor, forget being a school headboy."
While refusing to budge from his stand that his son towers head and shoulders over Abhimanyu, who, incidentally, has been judged Best All-rounder Student for three consecutive years, Singhal says the issue should not be taken personally. He explains: "Who's talking about the children, or even Abhimanyu in particular? I'm protesting against the system. The case filed by my lawyer was wrong. I've sacked her. The case ideally should have been, 'the criteria adopted for selecting a headboy was wrong. Merit was second-best and personal preference was at the top'." His contention: "Even after repeated visits by my wife, the headmistress refused to disclose the criteria for selection. She kept saying my son would face tough competition from a very intelligent boy, but nevertheless he would be given a very important post."
"And what is the post?" interrupts Monika Singhal, Vidur's mother. "That of Assembly Tie, which is nothing but an assembly-in-charge. My husband wants Vidur to resign from the post but he seems to be enjoying it." True, for Vidur, when questioned, says:"I was a little unhappy, but it's alright now. I get to stand next to the teacher everyday. "
While Saxena refuses to comment, principal S.L. Dhawan throws up his hands in despair, saying he's never seen anything like this before. "Both the children are A-graders," he sighs. He elaborates that the actual voting which formed just 10 per cent of the entire assessment of each child was just to dispel any doubts in the minds of the children regarding the country's electoral procedures. Academic performance formed another part, but the most important criteria were the personality traits of the children. For instance, in the case of Vidur, who is a little shy and reserved, facing and 'tackling' an assembly every day, it was felt, would probably help draw him out. Abhimanyu, on the other hand, is more gregarious and hence his acceptability among the rest of the children was judged higher.
But Monika Singhal is not convinced: "When you are in the rat race coming first is very important. Just being talkative does not make anybody an all-rounder and why should I change my son's personality?"
Dhawan is worried about the effect of such parental ambitions. Agrees clinical psychologist Sujata Sharma: "The case reflects the dangerous trend today where overambitious parents push their children into things they are probably not even interested in or capable of. And when the child fails, a parent, hoping for some kind of vicarious glory, suffers a loss of self-esteem."
And as a vent to his frustration Singhal also tried, albeit unsuccessfully, to bring an injunction against the school's Diwali Mela, alleging misappropriation of funds. The case gets murkier with the school sending Singhal a legal notice threatening cancellation of the child's admission on the grounds of discrepancy in the statement of the Singhals' annual income figures in the school's pre-admission and admission forms.
While Singhal admits that he has been cornered by this threat and would now prefer a compromise, advocate N.K. Jaggi, a member on the school board who's handling the case, is adamant: "The case can't be withdrawn now without the court's permission since it involves a minor. The school will now file for compensation to cost under Section 35 A against Singhal for wanting to withdraw the case without any specific reason."
Meanwhile, Singhal after the initial fire and brimstone seems a broken man. He hotly denies allegations that he cast aspersions on Abhimanyu's family by calling his father a "pony-tailed junkie" and a "confused man with no sense of identity" because he had given his son a name like Abhimanyu George Jain. He now plans to start an educational magazine dealing primarily with transparency in schools and student counselling.
But he refuses to give a written apology to the school because he's still not convinced about the systems adopted by Saxena, the target of all his ire. "If anybody deserves an apology," he says, "it's the principal who's an excellent person and I apologised to him after he explained that the election was nothing serious—everything was in fun."
The two children seem to have realised this much before the adult parties involved. They continue to be friends, carrying out their new duties hand-in-hand quite matter-of-factly. Jain sums up the fracas perfectly: "Here kids are behaving like adults, and adults like kids," proving it by grinning wide and adding, "while for my son's sake I would not like to do it, nevertheless, I would like my son to be the youngest person to file a defamation suit!"