Child Is The Father Of Mammon

In Mumbai, the Forum for Fairness in Education, a local organisation, has been receiving complaints from parents against the Arya Vidya Mandir in the posh Juhu suburbs. The school has been asking for donations of about Rs 1 lakh. The Manekji Cooper School in the same area has a flat rate of Rs 30,000 for its 'voluntary donation scheme'.
In Patna, the Notre Dame Academy, an elite girls' school, keeps a donation box in the office during admission time. Says a teacher: "We don't force, its up-to the parents to donate." But it's actually a kind of forced philanthropy. For, parents trying to admit their children are usually compelled to pay up.
The Wynberg Boarding School in Mussoorie conducts written entrance exams. A large number of nris and Southeast Asians queue up for their children's admissions. Interestingly, resident Indian children usually fail to clear the compulsory Hindi test while nris and Thai children get through.
In Calcutta, most of the well-known English-medium schools demand donations. Some ask the parents to pay them directly, while others acquire it as development fee, building fund and security deposit. The rates vary between Rs 12,000 and Rs 50,000.

Delhi-based multinational executive P.K. Walia says that during a nursery admission interview for his daughter Mahira at Ramakrishna (RK) Puram branch of Delhi Public School (dps, a trust running schools in the capital and in some other cities), the authorities plainly asked him what he could "do for the school through my company".Walia told the authorities that his company did not have "any such policy". Mahira didn't make it to the school though she got admission in four other schools.

Mumbai's Rajesh Pravinchandra Shah wanted to admit his son Nishant to the St Gregorious High School's nursery in Chembur. He was asked to cough up Rs 25,000 as non-refundable deposit and an additional Rs 15,000 as security deposit which would be refunded after seven years. For his daughter Saloni's admission to the third standard in the same school, he was again asked to pay Rs 15,000 as security deposit. Shah dithered awhile but finally gave in to the school's demands and admitted his kids after hard bargaining. The deal was finally struck for Rs 5,000 less than the initial amount asked for in each case.
Amit Khanna, a Delhi-based businessman, was in for a shock when the authorities of a super-deluxe school that runs air-conditioned buses demanded Rs 5 lakh as building funds in exchange for his child's admission. "I'm against any form of donation. So, I said no to it and put my child in another school." he says.
Rinku Guha, a typist with a private company in Calcutta, wanted to give the best education possible to her son Suman. So she coached her three-and-a-half-year-old-child for an interview to a reputed English-medium school. Says Guha: "The school demanded Rs 50,000 as security deposit. We can barely make two ends meet. So, we dropped the idea."

It's commerce with a noble pretence. And as educational institutions rake in the moolah, the point that there's no business like school business is driven home with a vengeance.