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Report Card Ramayan: The Sacred Religion of Indian Parents

  • Writer: Madhukar Dama
    Madhukar Dama
  • 1 day ago
  • 3 min read

Thou shalt worship marks or be cast out into the tuition pit.

“In the great Indian temple of education, children kneel before glowing report cards while parents chant marks like mantras — never noticing they sacrificed curiosity at the altar of comparison and called it parenting.”
“In the great Indian temple of education, children kneel before glowing report cards while parents chant marks like mantras — never noticing they sacrificed curiosity at the altar of comparison and called it parenting.”

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INTRODUCTION: THE TEMPLE OF TOPPERS


In most Indian households, there’s only one true religion —

Academics.


The holy trinity:

Maths. Science. English.

The sacred texts:

NCERT, Olympiads, Board Exam Syllabus.

The messiah:

Rank #1.

The demon:

"Below 90%."


Childhood is no longer a journey.

It’s a rat race dressed as divine duty.



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CHAPTER 1: THE SACRIFICE OF CHILDHOOD


Playtime is sin.

Sleeping before midnight is laziness.

Questioning the syllabus is rebellion.


Children are raised like endangered parrots —

fed syllables, taught to repeat, and punished for flight.


A child who sings, paints, climbs trees?

"Not focused."

A child who memorizes the Periodic Table backwards?

"Born gifted."



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CHAPTER 2: THE MARKS MANDIR


Every exam season is a spiritual war.


The priest (parent) prepares offerings:

almonds, Horlicks, and unrealistic expectations.


The child (sacrificial goat) is laced in fear and formulae.


The shrine (study table) is adorned with flashcards and guilt.


The prayer:

“Beta, just score 95+ — after that, life will be set.”



No one asks what happens after that.

Because there’s always another exam.

Another level.

Another god to please.



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CHAPTER 3: FESTIVAL OF RESULTS (Aka Family Olympics)


When results are out:


If high: “My child, my genes.”


If low: “That teacher is biased. And also, what have you been doing with your life?”



Every relative becomes a performance auditor.

Every child becomes a report card.


And don’t forget:

Marks are not just marks.

They are the new caste system.



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CHAPTER 4: THE UNHOLY RITUALS OF PARENTAL DEVOTION


"Let’s post your results on WhatsApp status."

(Child dies silently inside.)


“No TV until you improve in physics.”

(Joy = punishment currency.)


“If you don’t top, how will you become something?”

(Apparently you’re nothing now.)


“I got 94% in 1986. What’s your excuse?”

(Ancestral trauma being passed like property.)




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CHAPTER 5: THE CURSE OF “SET LIFE”


The final illusion:


“Just get into IIT/NIT/MBBS. After that, your life will be set.”


Set where?


Set in a job that kills soul?


Set in debt for a coaching scam?


Set in an office cubicle allergic to sunlight?



Most of these “set” children are now depressed, burnt out, or quietly googling "how to quit everything and live in a forest."



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DETAILED CONCISE SUMMARY QUOTE:


“When parents worship the report card, they sacrifice the child. And when the child finally rebels, they call it ingratitude — never realizing it was survival.”



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DIALOGUE:


“My Child Is a Tenth Ranker”

A Visit to Madhukar the Hermit



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Father (smiling with pride):

My daughter scored 96% in boards.

She’s in three tuitions. Next, we’re preparing for NEET.



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Madhukar:

Hmm. And what does she dream of?



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Father:

That’s not important. She’s focused. Doesn’t waste time on silly hobbies.



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Madhukar:

So you gave her a syllabus… but not a soul?



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Father:

We want her to have a settled life.



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Madhukar:

Settled like a grave?



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Father (confused):

No no, we mean security. Success.



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Madhukar:

What you call success

is a child learning to fear mistakes

and seek approval forever.



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Father:

But everyone does this.



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Madhukar:

That’s what they said in war too.



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Mother (softly):

She doesn’t laugh anymore, Madhukar ji.

Only studies. Sometimes cries in sleep.



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Madhukar:

The child isn’t broken.

Your worship is.


She came to life with light in her hands.

You gave her a pen and told her to write the same number again and again — until it became her worth.



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Father (sitting down quietly):

What should we do?



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Madhukar:

Unlearn.

Unlove her performance.

Love her presence.

Let her rest.

Let her fail.

Let her forget.

Let her remember who she is — beyond the ink on a paper.



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Madhukar Dama / Savitri Honnakatti, Survey Number 114, Near Yelmadagi 1, Chincholi Taluk, Kalaburgi District 585306, India

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