Kishore Singh: Simple works best

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Exams require a single-point agenda: that you study for them. Board exams, in particular, need a keen focus if you are to ace them. "But how can I study when my room is full of your stuff?" my daughter threw at me. It was an unfair attack because all I had in her room were some spare books, but since I had told my wife I would take on the burden of organising our daughter's studies, I quietly removed them, while next she attacked the cook for feeding her fatty foods that, she complained, were upsetting her attempt to solve her sample accounts papers.

"Nerves," I explained to my wife, "she'll get over them," and so we tip-toed around the house, diminishing our presence while hoping she would set up her study regimen. It seemed clear as day that to learn, you needed to study, and to score, you needed to practise. Instead, our daughter defined her study goals somewhat differently. "I can't concentrate if I have to study," she said in dilettante fashion, "so I need to do other things to focus on my course."

Dismayed by her logic, but being modern parents, we fell in with her wishes. "I need time to think," she ruled. So, while she chatted with her friends on the net (four hours every day), conference-called on the mobile (just a shade under an hour), loosened up with television (two hours), and went for walks with colony friends (another hour), we stayed in the background.

As the hours whistled past, I asked her why she was doing her hair. "I can't study," said my little one, "if I'm looking untidy, I need to be glamorous." That took a while, as did choosing her clothes, wearing her contacts, and deciding on what footwear to match with her dress, even though it hardly mattered considering she preferred to study by spreading her books and herself on the bed. If at the end of it she looked more likely to be setting off for a party then sitting down with her notes, who was I to complain so long as she could memorise by rote!

But her preparations were still continuing "" she needed her best friend's notes photocopied (one visit to the market), stationery (second trip back), to collect forms for admission to university (trip number three that day), another copy of her business studies book, hers was coming apart (fourth market visit), some ice-cream, she was hungry (fifth...). "It's okay," I said to my wife, "she'll settle down with her books." "Oh, she's reading all right," my wife called me in office to share the latest developments, "only it's romance novels instead of economics."

That's when we decided to call our son, who was studying for his college exams in Pune, to guide his sister on how to set about preparing for her papers. "It takes a lot of effort to get into the mood to pick up your books," said my son. "That's right," I said encouragingly, "just tell your sister what you do, so she can do it too." Later, my daughter came to me with a list. "My brother," she said, "wants me to join a gym to develop my biceps. He says I need to run a few kilometres every day to clear the cobwebs from my brain. I must also listen, he advises, to dance to some hard rock daily. Why," she asked me, "do you think he's telling me all this." "To get you to study better," I volunteered.

"Perhaps I need to take over now," said my wife impatiently, "so miss, either you sit down with your books, or you're going to get the hiding of your life." Strange how the simple way seems to work best sometimes.