Part 9 of 17 in Rethinking Childhood: An Indian Parent’s Guide
I’ve often found myself struck by the sheer wonder that children naturally possess. The other day, I watched my niece spend an entire afternoon squatting over an ant line, utterly absorbed by the minuscule world at her feet. To her, this wasn’t merely an idle pastime; it was a lesson in life sciences, physics, and perhaps even philosophy, rolled into one. This kind of curiosity is the very essence of learning. Yet, as I reflect on the Indian education system, I can’t help but wonder where this innate curiosity goes once children enter school.
The grim reality is that our schooling system, instead of nurturing this natural inquisitiveness, often stamps it out. This isn’t a new observation, but it is one I believe we need to confront with a renewed urgency. Our schools have become factories for premature answers, ushering young minds through a conveyor belt of rote learning, standardized tests, and memorization. A child asks, “Why does the moon follow our car?” and instead of exploring the question, they’re redirected to the syllabus with a dismissive, “That’s not in the portion.”
In my practice as an IVF specialist, I’ve learned that the most profound discoveries often begin with a simple, unfiltered question. Why can’t we approach education with the same mindset? Why can’t we allow children to dwell in the realm of questions a little longer?
Take Ananya, a seven-year-old from Pune. She asked her parents if they could grow tomatoes like those in her grandmother’s village. It would have been easy for them to say no, citing a lack of time or space. Instead, they indulged her curiosity. They bought two grow-bags and a packet of seeds. The first attempt failed, but Ananya was undeterred. She kept a diary, meticulously noting down her observations, and eventually, she tasted the fruit of her labor. When her science class “did” plants that term, she was the only child who had a disagreement with the textbook, armed with evidence from her own balcony. This kind of learning, born out of curiosity, is invaluable.
Curiosity is cheap, but killing it is expensive. We invest so much in coaching classes, tuition, and enrichment programs, but what do we really get in return? A generation of students who know how to score well on exams but have little understanding of what they’ve learned or how to apply it. As an angel investor, I see a parallel in the startup ecosystem. Startups that succeed are often those that dare to ask the questions no one else is asking. They’re driven by curiosity, not just by the desire to make money.
So, how do we keep the spark alive in our children? How do we ensure that their questions are not stifled by the rigid structures of our education system? It begins with taking their questions seriously. When a child asks something we don’t know, it’s an opportunity, not a challenge. Saying, “I don’t know. How could we find out?” turns ignorance into a shared journey of discovery.
We must also be willing to follow their obsessions, even when it’s inconvenient. Two weeks of trains or dinosaurs isn’t a wasted fortnight; it’s an investment in depth. Provide them with tools that encourage exploration: a magnifying glass, some magnets, a kitchen scale. And perhaps most importantly, we need to model curiosity ourselves. Share stories of adults who are still learning, still questioning.
Reducing the number of scheduled “enrichment” classes is another step. Free up their time so they can start something unplanned, something driven by their interests. Children are not containers to be filled; they are fires to be kindled. The Indian error is that we keep pouring water on the fire, then hire someone to relight it with a marksheet.
In the world of investing, I’ve learned that the best founders are those who are perpetually curious. They’re the ones who ask why something hasn’t been done before and then set out to do it. They’re not deterred by failure, because they see each setback as another question to answer. This is the kind of mindset we need to cultivate in our children.
I urge parents and educators to reconsider the metrics by which we measure success. Let’s move beyond grades and degrees to foster a culture that values curiosity. Encourage children to take risks, to fail, and to learn from those failures. Give them the freedom to explore, to ask questions, and to challenge the answers they receive.
Curiosity should be the curriculum. It should be the foundation upon which all learning is built. When we allow children to follow their curiosity, we’re not just preparing them for exams; we’re preparing them for life. We’re equipping them with the tools they need to navigate an ever-changing world, to think critically, and to solve the problems of tomorrow.
In my experience, whether in the clinic or the boardroom, it’s the questions we ask, not the answers we memorize, that define our success. Let’s ensure that the next generation has the courage to ask them.