How to Pick Extracurriculars for Your Child

A child chooses among several activities while a parent watches, illustrating how to pick extracurriculars for kids in India.
15 min read

How to Pick Extracurricular Activities for Kids in India

Last month, a parent asked me whether her nine-year-old daughter should learn piano, swimming, coding, tennis, or classical dance. She had made a spreadsheet. Each activity had been scored for usefulness, future career value, certificate potential, and distance from home.

I told her to begin somewhere else: ask the child what she looks forward to doing when nobody is watching.

For most children, the best extracurricular activities are not the ones that look impressive on a school application. They are activities that give the child regular physical movement, a chance to make something, an opportunity to work with others, and enough freedom to discover what she genuinely enjoys. In India, that may mean swimming, football, music, drawing, theatre, coding, gardening, cooking, debating, chess, or simply unstructured play. The right choice depends less on fashion and more on the child, the teacher, the cost, the travel time, and whether the activity can be sustained without making family life miserable.

That sounds obvious. It is not how most parents choose.

The comfortable belief that every activity must be useful

We have turned childhood into a portfolio.

One activity should demonstrate discipline. Another should build leadership. A third should show creativity. A fourth should provide a certificate. By Class 8, the child is expected to have a “profile”. Parents talk about extracurricular activities in the same language that investors use for startup portfolios: diversification, signalling, future optionality, and return on investment.

I understand the anxiety. Indian parents know that academic marks alone do not guarantee a good life. They also know that children need confidence, communication skills, health, friendships, and interests outside textbooks. The problem is that we respond to this insight by filling every available hour.

The result is a child being driven from school to tuition, from tuition to badminton, from badminton to keyboard class, and then returning home too tired to read, think, talk to a parent, or stare out of a window.

I have seen the same mistake in healthcare. A patient receives a long prescription because every individual medicine sounds reasonable. The final treatment is unsafe because nobody has considered the total burden. Extracurricular activities work the same way. Swimming is good. Music is good. Sport is good. Coding is good. Ten good things can still produce a bad childhood.

The first test of an extracurricular activity is not whether it will help your child get into a good college. It is whether your child has enough time left to remain a child.

What extracurricular activities are actually for

I would divide the purpose of an activity into four broad categories.

The body. Children need to run, jump, balance, stretch, sweat, and learn what their bodies can do. A sport or regular physical activity is not an optional decoration. It is one of the few things that protects a child from spending the entire day sitting in classrooms, cars, tuition centres, and in front of screens.

The hands. Making things teaches a different kind of intelligence. Drawing, painting, cooking, pottery, carpentry, gardening, craft, playing an instrument, and building a robot all require the child to turn an idea into something tangible. The result may be ugly. That is part of the education.

The voice. Theatre, storytelling, singing, debating, public speaking, and creative writing help children express what they think and feel. A child who can explain an idea, listen to another person, and disagree without becoming unpleasant has acquired a useful life skill, even if she never participates in a debate competition.

The character. Team sports, music practice, chess, volunteering, and long projects teach patience, cooperation, persistence, and the ability to tolerate being bad at something for a while. These qualities cannot be downloaded through an app or acquired from a motivational lecture.

Different activities teach different things. There is no single “best extracurricular activity for kids in India”. A shy child may benefit from theatre, but only if the teacher is kind and the child is not pushed onto a stage before she is ready. A restless child may need swimming or athletics, not another seated class. A child who already spends the whole day competing may need gardening, not another competition.

Start with the child, not the brochure

When a child is young, parents have to expose her to a range of possibilities. She cannot choose an activity she has never seen. But exposure is not the same as commitment.

I like a short trial period. Try a sport for six weeks. Attend a few music classes. Let the child visit a robotics club. Borrow a keyboard before purchasing one. Go to a public swimming pool before signing up for an expensive annual programme. Watch a school play together. Cook one recipe at home. Take a walk in a nature reserve and see whether the child starts asking questions.

During this period, I would watch less for talent and more for behaviour.

Does the child ask to return? Does she practise without being reminded every time? Does she talk about what happened in class? Does she tolerate small frustrations? Does she enjoy the process, or only the applause? A child does not need to be naturally gifted at an activity for it to be worthwhile. But there should be some sign of curiosity or ownership.

Parents often say, “My son is very talented at cricket,” when what they mean is that the coach says he has good hand-eye coordination. Talent is not the same as interest. A child can be good at something and hate doing it. Conversely, a child can be clumsy at first and gradually become deeply engaged.

I made this mistake with my own children. I assumed that the activity that looked most intellectually respectable would be the most valuable. I was wrong. The activity that survives is usually the one the child claims as her own.

Extracurricular activities for kids in India: how I would compare the choices

Parents often ask me to compare sports, music, art, coding, debate, and volunteering. The following table is not a ranking. It is a way of asking what each activity can reasonably offer, and what its hidden cost may be.

Activity What it can teach What parents should check Common mistake
Swimming or sport Fitness, coordination, teamwork, persistence Safety, coach’s attitude, travel time, enjoyment Turning play into an early performance career
Music or dance Practice, memory, expression, listening Teacher’s patience, child’s pace, performance pressure Forcing examinations and competitions too soon
Art and craft Observation, patience, imagination, fine motor control Freedom to experiment, materials, quality of guidance Correcting every drawing until it looks like the teacher’s
Coding and robotics Logic, problem-solving, making rather than consuming Hands-on work, age-appropriate tools, real mentorship Assuming a coding certificate equals understanding
Theatre, debate, storytelling Communication, confidence, empathy, listening Whether quieter children are included, not merely the loudest Rewarding performance without teaching thought
Chess and puzzles Concentration, planning, patience Whether the child enjoys sustained attention Measuring the child only by tournament ratings
Volunteering and community work Responsibility, perspective, service Whether the work is genuine and age-appropriate Using charity as a photograph for a school application

There is a useful distinction here between an activity and an achievement. Swimming is an activity. Winning a district swimming medal is an achievement. The first can be valuable for almost any child. The second is valuable only for a small number, and only if the child wants the training that comes with it.

The one rule I would put above all the others

Every child should have at least one activity that is not being done for marks, medals, certificates, or admission.

This is the most important rule because children quickly learn to perform for adults. They learn which answers please their parents, which competitions produce praise, and which certificates can be displayed. If every interest is converted into a measurable outcome, the child eventually stops asking, “Do I enjoy this?” and starts asking, “Will this count?”

A child should be allowed to play the guitar badly for two years. She should be allowed to paint without entering an art competition. She should be allowed to play football without being selected for a team. She should be allowed to read fiction that does not improve her vocabulary in any measurable way.

Some parents object that this is unrealistic because competition is intense. I disagree. The children who do well over long periods are not usually the ones who have collected the largest number of activities. They are the ones who have developed the capacity to stay with something, think independently, and recover after failure. Those qualities grow more naturally when the child has some control over what she is doing.

Do not confuse coaching with learning

India has a large market for extracurricular classes. Some are excellent. Many are merely well-packaged.

A coding class may teach children to drag blocks in Scratch while calling it artificial intelligence. A music school may produce certificates without producing musicians. A sports academy may spend more time selecting promising children than teaching beginners. A debate programme may train children to speak loudly without teaching them to listen.

I would ask to observe a session before enrolling a child. I would speak to two parents whose children have attended for at least six months. I would ask what happens when a child is slow, shy, bored, or makes repeated mistakes. The answer tells me more than the brochure.

Good teachers make room for different kinds of children. They do not treat a nine-year-old as a failed adult. They understand that confidence is built through small successes, not manufactured by shouting encouragement.

This is also where cost matters. A ₹3,000 monthly class may be affordable for one family and a serious burden for another. An activity that requires expensive equipment, weekend travel, uniforms, and repeated competitions may cost far more than the advertised fee. Parents should calculate the full cost in money, time, and emotional energy.

Distance is an underrated variable. A good class fifteen minutes away is often better than a famous class ninety minutes away. The child will attend more consistently, the parent will lose fewer working hours, and the family will have more unplanned time. In my work with founders, I see a similar principle: a modest but repeatable process beats an impressive plan that nobody can sustain.

Age matters, and so does season

At four, a child does not need a serious extracurricular portfolio. She needs play, stories, movement, conversation, and exposure to music, art, books, and nature.

Between six and ten, I would offer variety without demanding early specialisation. This is a good age to try swimming, a team sport, music, drawing, dance, theatre, puzzles, and simple making activities. The objective is not to identify a career. It is to discover what kind of effort feels satisfying.

Between eleven and fourteen, children can begin choosing more deliberately. They can understand that improvement requires practice. They can also start rejecting activities that were chosen for them. Parents should listen to this resistance rather than automatically labelling it laziness.

In Classes 9 to 12, academic pressure increases. This is when many families eliminate every activity except tuition. Sometimes that is necessary for a short period. But I would be careful. A child who has no source of pleasure outside examinations becomes psychologically dependent on examination results. One poor test then feels like a verdict on her entire identity.

A modest, regular activity can protect against this. It may be a weekly football game, a choir rehearsal, a sketchbook, a coding project, or a walk with a parent. It need not be competitive. It needs to belong to the child.

I have written earlier about how to choose a school for your child in India. The same principle applies here: the correct choice is not the one that sounds best in a parent WhatsApp group. It is the one that fits your particular child and your family’s actual life.

What about college admissions?

This is usually the question hiding behind all the other questions.

Parents ask whether coding, Model United Nations, classical dance, Olympiad preparation, or volunteering will improve admission prospects. The honest answer is that certificates by themselves are weak evidence. Admissions officers, wherever they are, can distinguish between sustained interest and activity collection.

A child who has spent four years building small robots, documenting failures, and teaching younger children may have something meaningful to say. A child who attended six one-day STEM camps and received six certificates has mostly attended six one-day STEM camps.

The same applies to social service. A genuine relationship with an organisation, sustained work, and reflection on what the child observed are valuable. A single beach clean-up followed by a posed photograph is mostly a photograph.

I would not choose an activity because I think it will impress an unknown admissions committee six years from now. That is too much uncertainty for a childhood decision. Choose something that is worthwhile even if no college ever asks about it.

Parents who are worried about academic competition may find my thoughts on whether a child really needs tuition in Class 10 relevant. Every hour has an opportunity cost. The question is not whether tuition or an activity is “good”. The question is what this child needs now, and what the family is sacrificing to provide it.

How to decide without making the child responsible for the whole decision

Children need choice, but they also need parental judgement. A seven-year-old cannot evaluate safety, teaching quality, or the family budget. “Let the child choose” does not mean that parents should outsource all decisions.

I would use a simple sequence:

  1. Set the family constraints. Decide how many evenings and weekends are available, what you can comfortably spend, and how far you are willing to travel.
  2. Protect physical activity. If the child has no regular movement, begin there before adding another academic or screen-based class.
  3. Offer a small menu. Give two or three realistic options rather than an endless catalogue. Visit them if possible.
  4. Try before committing. Use a short trial period and observe the child’s response over several weeks.
  5. Review after a term. Ask what the child enjoys, what feels difficult, and whether the activity is worth its cost in time and money.
  6. Permit an honest exit. Finishing a reasonable commitment is good discipline. Continuing indefinitely only because money has been spent is not.

That last distinction matters. Children should learn that effort is required before quitting. But they should also learn that changing direction is not failure. In my investment work, I have seen founders persist with a product long after the evidence says that customers do not want it. Persistence is a virtue only when it is connected to learning.

The hidden value of boredom

There is one more activity I would recommend, though it does not appear on most lists: doing nothing organised.

Children need time without an adult-designed objective. They need to invent games, argue with siblings, rearrange objects, read the same book repeatedly, and discover that boredom can be uncomfortable without being dangerous.

When every hour is scheduled, children become excellent at following instructions and poor at initiating anything. They wait for a teacher, coach, parent, or app to tell them what comes next. That is the opposite of curiosity.

This is one reason I am sceptical of the frantic extracurricular culture around many urban Indian schools. Parents proudly describe a Sunday that includes football at 7 a.m., piano at 10, robotics at noon, a birthday party at 3, and a test-preparation class at 6. I hear the schedule and wonder when the child is meant to digest any of it.

A full timetable can create the appearance of development while quietly removing the time in which development actually happens.

My practical answer to the parent with the spreadsheet

I asked that mother to choose two activities for the next term, not five. One should involve physical movement. The other should be something her daughter had shown genuine curiosity about. She chose swimming and drawing.

I also asked her to make one promise: no competitions for six months, no certificates, no Instagram photographs, and no comparing her daughter with the other children in the class. Just attendance, enjoyment, and a conversation every few weeks about what the child was discovering.

Perhaps the girl will later become a swimmer or an artist. Perhaps she will abandon both and become a doctor, founder, teacher, or something none of us can predict. That is not the point. The point is that she will have learned to listen to her own interest, practise a skill, cope with imperfection, and tell her parents what she thinks.

Those are better returns than a folder full of certificates.

When I look at children, I see the same mistake that investors often make with young companies: trying to predict the final outcome too early. A seed-stage founder does not need to look like a large company on day one. A child does not need to look like a finished adult at ten. Both need room to experiment, enough support to continue, and the freedom to change course when reality teaches them something new.

If I had to choose only one extracurricular activity for a child, I would choose the one that makes her forget to check the time. If I had to choose a second, I would choose one that makes her work with other people. And if the family schedule leaves no time for either, I would cancel an activity before I cancelled childhood.