"Reading or Writing?", she asked.
She means Urmila Bhatt, the admission officer of the school in which we had come to enroll both our children. I had heard a lot about this school. It was also the wish of Mita that we should enroll both our children here. This was the most important work for me after my transfer to this city recently. I was among the top positions in a reputed global bank. There was no problem with the house. A large bungalow with all the furnishings was allotted by the bank, and that too in the middle of the most expensive locality of the city. Everything else was set. The new sessions of the school were starting from next month. That's why early admission was necessary. Children also liked this school. Maybe they both saw something online and found quite positive about it. Mita and the kids, if all three wanted this then what was the problem for me. Anyway, I had found out in the bank also from my staff, everyone had praised this school very much.
"So what do you think? Reading or Writing? Which section would you enroll your children in? I believe you should enroll one of your children in the writing section and the other in the reading section.", Urmila Bhatt, Admissions Officer was trying to convince us.
"What the hell?" I screamed.
"Is the child going to learn only to write, or just to read? Aren't both necessary for every child? We have to teach both to both our children", said Meeta, looking into Urmila Bhatt's eyes very seriously.
I nodded my head in approval.
But there was no effect on Urmila Bhatt. "It's just not possible", she said.
"You get us to talk to your principal, now", I probably got a little annoyed. It was justified. I didn't know there were a few more shockers in store for me.
"Which principal would you like to meet? From the writing section or from the reading section?" She asked.
I was horrified now. Mita also seemed to be losing her temper. I was like crying out loud in fret now - "I will get your school locked. It's sheer nonsense". "I'll get shut it down". "I'll get shut it down".
Mita was shaking my arm loudly.
"Bhanu, wake up, have a sip of water. Are you dreaming of something horrible? What will you get shut down? What happened? Get up. What are you muttering in your sleep?" It, probably, took her a while to pull me out of that.
When I opened my eyes, I found I was at home. There was nothing like school. I drank two sips of water from the glass that Mita was holding, offering me. She understood that it was having a bad dream. "Okay now? Let's go back to sleep. It's just three o'clock in the night. Take rest. In the morning we have to go to the new school for our kids' admission.
"In which branch?" Readin or Writing?" I wanted to ask Mita.
Instead, I thought it better to sleep quietly.
A few days after admission, when I told Mita and the children about this dream, we all laughed for a long time.
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