An Endless Exam

Parenthood theorem: The day before a child’s exam begins is when her father is tested the most.

A corollary: A child would be at her most demanding specifically on such a day.

With Mrudula’s first unit test beginning tomorrow, I could only pray that her list of demands for the day stays within my reach. She began the day by asking for an ice cream. Knowing well that her cough had subsided just a week ago, there was no way I was going to say yes. Yet, she latched on to her doctor’s words.

“Didn’t Dr Sahay say that cough is not affected by ice cream?” she persisted.

“Yes, he did.” Damn you, doctor.

“You need something healthier than ice cream for breakfast. After all…” I said

“After all, yes, my BIG exam starts tomorrow. A life changing unit test for class 4. You know an ice cream won’t hurt me but you just don’t want anything done my way,” she argued while rushing to grab her toothbrush and closing the bathroom door in my face.

I escaped the ice cream ordeal for breakfast with no further consequences. She dabbled with studies all day. She need not have to do much. It was all too easy for her.

The comfort with which she did well in her exams always remained a thorn for me. Surely, she wasn’t getting it from me. We weren’t even related. Hell, I wasn’t even a human. Who was I besides being an experiment gone wrong who was now a caretaker for an adamant child?

By evening, Mrudula was bored. I asked her to play cards for some time and she indulged without complaining. She was quite intuitive with her play and was quick to latch on to my deceptions. My frequent losses were as much a result of her sharp mind as my thoughts drifting away to my parenthood mask being undone time and again.

“Can we go to Ipsita’s home?” she asked abruptly as we were about to start another game of cards.

“May be after the exam…” I said and she threw her cards on the bed.

“Exam, exam, exam! You are just the worst father,” she said and rushed to her room. Just as I kept staring at the closed door of her room, she walked right back to me and said, “You aren’t even my real father. I hate you and I hate being dependent on you,” she walked off.

‘A phase. That’s what this is,’ I told myself.

But my ability to detect lies told me that Mrudula was not lying. Her exam began tomorrow while I had failed mine today. Yet again.  

May tomorrow’s one be better.