Kedar Nadella A smart board costs about Rs. 25,000 to 55,000. A projector costs around Rs. 25 – 30,000. A desktop with minimum system requirements to support the software that contains audio visual material costs about Rs. 15 to 20,000. So to set up a digital classroom a school will need to spend over a lakh. This sum multiplied many times by the number of government and private schools in India, further multiplied by the 1.7 million children waiting to be educated, represents a playground of business opportunities for various public and private enterprises. Besides, digital classrooms are just one of the many business avenues that are in the education market today. The present education system in India is undergoing drastic changes, in sway with our rapid globalization. With a large part of the Indian population, both adults and children, yet to be educated, it has become a fertile ground for both public and private investments. With path-breaking advancements in multimedia and communications, there has never been a better time for us to learn through technology. Schools, colleges, universities – even full time coaching centres and evening tuitions, modern day messiahs of education that have steadily popped up along every street corner and mushroomed into a lucrative industry by themselves – are put to test each day on the basis of how they adapt and use the latest ICT enabled education solutions for students. Venture capitalists and budding entrepreneurs are gradually weaving themselves into both offline and online learning methods, not to mention external coaching centres, which promise to fill the loopholes in our study curriculum. With the business of education estimated to range around 95.80 billion dollars by FY 15, (The Hindu, November 13, 2013) many national and multinational organizations are coming forward to offer their services to upcoming schools and colleges. One of the success stories in recent times is of UK’s publishing giant, Pearson. It started in India as a textbook publisher and has been taking steps ever since to become a one-stop shop for all educational needs in India. In order to dominate the online teaching and vocational training businesses, Pearson in the early part of this year acquired an 80 per cent stake in TutorVista in February, and bought out Educomp’s 50 per cent share in IndiaCan in April. As reported in their 2013 half-yearly results, there is an increase in its digital content sales which amounted up to 21 per cent of its global revenue. The report also mentioned

Seetha Anand Vaidyam In our land there existed gurukulams to which parents sent their children to be prepared for life. At the end of their education a gurudakshina was offered to the guru or the teacher. The gurudakshina that was offered was in accordance with what each parent could afford. There was no specific amount prescribed, simply because the learning that was imparted was considered priceless and the dakshina was merely a humble token of appreciation for the love, care, and involvement of the guru. Today, such gestures seem too sophisticated and idealistic! While we certainly need a more concrete framework and guidelines for educational transactions, it is astounding to see the shape and size that profits and revenue in educational institutes have taken. It is not just about the mounting costs of education, fee hikes, etc. These may be seen as inevitable due to the general inflation and its corresponding effects, but they do not entirely account for the rapid commercialization of this sector. Now what is the difference between financial viability and commercialization? The following narratives will perhaps make it somewhat clear. I received a call from a relative recently. She was confused, agitated, and frustrated. The reason behind her woes – her daughter’s school. The school was laying undue pressure from the middle of the year to pay the school fee for the next year. If the child’s admission for the next year was confirmed the previous year itself and they paid part of the amount, they would get a concession in the fee. So students studying in the same class would be paying different amounts in the same year! The parent has a transferable job and it was unfair to arm twist her into paying more simply because the parents could not confirm an admission for the following year in the middle of the current year. (This makes me wonder – Will the school not be viable if it did not collect the fee so much in advance? Or will it make a ‘dent’ in the kind of car the owner of the school drives?) The next story is from a relative who was a conscientious parent, who believed in giving her child healthy wholesome foods. The child was demanding chocolates and packaged snack items that were being sent home with the child every now and then from school. Further questioning led to the information that the school had a commercial understanding with certain companies that sell chocolates, packaged snacks, and

Bubla Basu I’m glad I didn’t wait for the sunset – the last day, the cards, the gatherings and the goodbyes – the curtain call at retirement. This year, at 51, I chose to leave my position of Senior English Teacher at a South Mumbai school. This puts a full stop to a long (but interrupted) 25-year teaching career and I consider myself fortunate to have the health, the circumstances (which do not mean economic stability!) and the will to quit while I am ahead. My reasons for quitting school are not the conventional ones – of moving to another state or to a more suitable school, or to consciously change a field of work, or to follow a calling, or to seek a more lucrative job, or because of a family crisis. These were the reasons that had made my teaching graph waver earlier. This time, it is simple – a disagreement with what is called learning and what schools, in general, have learnt to call teaching – and I don’t mean this of only the school I quit. What seems to matter to most schools now is the right equipment, state-of-the-art technology, that their students host or attend the many meaningful or meaningless inter – school events in their city or even beyond it and that these students look smart, talk glib and score well in the public and competitive examinations. Only when this checklist of appearances – the “look and feel” – is satisfactorily met does a school merit distinction. From a teacher of another city school who was as taken aback as I was, I learnt that children in schools were “clients,” and that it was because of these “clients” that teachers held their jobs. “Clients” should be satisfied with schools and schools should ensure their maximum comfort. To me, this patronising sounds absurd. An institution should have no reason to beg for brownie points or for its students to drift along in such indulgence. Whether for an institution or an individual, “ambition should be made of sterner stuff.” Rigour and discipline do not necessarily mean a military regime and in a dynamic learning atmosphere, demands placed on students more often than not encourage students to demand more of themselves. Chillingly matter of fact, a student of 15 remarked to me that as school prepared one for life and as life was really about following instructions, there was no point in reading, far less in thinking about or taking “The Road