"Fight for your Right"

Being a fighter's daughter...

“I want to know why is my name not on the list.” I asked my father. He looked at me in the eye and asked, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Moments ago I had told him that I wanted to ask the school (where I had taken an admission test) to check my papers again or show them to me. My name wasn’t on the list and there was no reason why I shouldn’t have been there. What appalled me more were the other names on the list.  Girls who could barely pass class tests were on it! Something was wrong. 

We were changing schools.  After 10th, we were crossing the road to leave our Convent School to join the neighbouring co-educational plus two. It was a controversial move anyway. All the girls who chose to move to the town’s boys school were obviously seen as doing it to study with the boys.  All my closest friends had their names on the list. Except mine. 

Was I ready to stay behind? 

Definitely no! Even my friends were surprised at this gross injustice! Did I mess up the entrance test? 

I didn’t want to make it about my lost pride. Neither did I want to accept the FOMO. I know, it wasn’t even a term back then! That doesn’t mean I didn’t feel it. 

I was 16. I was not going to go down without a fight! I wanted to see my papers. That meant challenging a school decision. 

My father sat me down. 

“You know what you are implying, right?” He decided to break it down to me.

“By challenging the admission list, you are saying that the school has not chosen students based on merit. You are not believing them and you want to prove that you deserve that seat?” 

“Yes, you are right. You taught me to fight for my right. I choose to fight this,” I didn’t wait to reply. 

“Fine. Then I want you to go all out. I am with you, but I won’t do this for you.”

The next morning I called the school and asked them to check my papers. I told them I was sure that the school had made a mistake. My name should be on the list and I am confident that I should be there on merit. Two days later, we were called into the Principal’s office.

Before we went, my father and I shared quick notes. 

“You will have to do the talking. I will be there with you, but I won’t say a word. Ready?” 

“Yes.”

“They may ask for a donation.” 

“We won’t give any.”

The Principal didn’t make us wait. He had his hand on my answer sheets. He gently pushed them towards me and smiled. His peace offering.

“You were right Rituparna, you did well. It was a mistake from our end. We missed it,” said the Principal, “We would be happy to have you in our school.” 

“Thank you Father, I was confident,” I replied. 

“We were also wondering if you’d like to support our new building,” this time he turned towards my father, pushing another stack of papers. Him asking for a return gift.

“I am afraid we cannot do that Father,”  I replied. My heart pounding in my heart, my stomach somersaulted, “I am here on merit. I want to do this the right way.” 

Father smiled again. He agreed. 

As we walked out of the office to do the paper work for admissions, my father stepped in to fill up the forms. That would be the last admission form that he would fill out for me.

Two years later when it would be my turn for a fresh round of college admissions, he knew I was ready to fly on my own. 

He had taught me to fight. That day he saw, I had learnt well. 

****

Happy Father’s Day Baba!

Thank you for having my back always. You fought a fighter’s fight and showed me how its done.

During my father’s 70th birthday in 2021. This was his first birthday party with invites, multiple parties and several cakes. I saw my father become a little boy.

Your birthday and Father’s Day will always be close by.

This is my first Father’s Day without you. I am telling myself that I am not alone. I know you are inside me. All I have to do is find you everyday…

*****

[This post was written during the Ochre Sky Workshop with Natasha Badhwar and Raju Tai]

Our prompt was Write about a time when you responded to injustice.