That F word

When something goes out of proportions, only one word takes over me. The face may give birth to a smile, the words may sling silver or perhaps I may shake someone’s hands firm but when the situation leads to an unnatural acceptance of my inner cognizance, I shout this word, F***, very loud.

Sometime, a month ago, I got a call from one of the private schools in Thimphu. It was a bad news the school could not accept the enrollment of my daughter. The reason was simple; her age did not fulfil the criteria. She was lesser by a few months to five. I cleared my voice.

“It is okay, sir,” I replied. “But can I say something?” I asked softly.

“What do you have to say?” he said.

“Sir, I knew the criteria of attaining five years old to get into your school,” I started. “Yet I applied for it.”

The man at the other end giggled, perhaps, having found me as a foolish person.

“Sir, you and I know, most of the kids are not five years old. They are made five, right sir?” I said.

The giggling stopped. “What are you trying to say?” he asked.

“Parents forge the ages of their own kids and I was told to do the same,” I explained.

The giggling started again. It confirmed, at least to me, he heard me correct.

“I submitted the original health card of my daughter because deep within me, I expected the school management would consider her application. I thought school would think on this line, ‘When we consciously know many of the submitted ages are not true, at least one father submitted honestly for his kid whose age is as equal as to those we approve yearly’.  I had this inner flame glowing you would call my daughter for a basic interview. I would not not mind if she was rejected from there.” I took a deep breath consciously keeping a low sense of humor in between.

“We are sorry, we go by books,” he said.

It did not seem he was hurt. There was no reason to get hurt, because I did not accuse the management of the school at all. On top of that, I made the statement light hearted through humble tone. It was only known to me that I was belittling him and his school tactfully by such a manner.

He did not say sorry. I did not mind it. Instead, I told him my daughter will come back next year and make his school proud. He laughed at it. But that was not how I wanted to end the story.

“Sir, don’t you want to know, why I did not forge my daughter’s age?” I asked rhetorically.

“Sir, I consider myself living an honest life all through. It would have been very bad of me to begin my daughter’s life telling lie. Goodbye sir,” I ended the conversation.

I still wonder whether he was able to understand that his school was a promoter of telling lies. Whether he got the meaning or not, I said this F word very loud.