Satire | Becoming Tiger Papa

I was eating my dinner, reading a book, and generally minding my own business when Kattabomman came by.

“What are you reading?” he said, flipping the cover. “Battle high-man of the tiger mother?”

“Not high-man, hymn. Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother.”

This column is a satirical take on life and society.

“What’s it about?”

“It’s about a Chinese mother,” I said. “The author, Amy Chua, talks about how to make a child disciplined, obedient, and hard-working so that he gets full marks in every subject.”

“Why are YOU reading it?” Katta asked. “You are not a mother.”

“Well —”

“And you are not Chinese.”

“That’s exactly why I’m reading it,” I said. “Chinese parents are very good at raising successful children. I want to apply their techniques on you.”

Katta plucked the book from my hand. He started reading the first chapter, titled ‘The Chinese Mother’.

“Is she serious?” he said, looking up.

“What do you mean?”

“This,” he said. “Here are some things my daughters, Sophia and Louisa, were never allowed to do: watch TV or play computer games, get any grade less than an A, not be the No.1 student in every subject except gym and drama, play any instrument other than the piano or violin…”

“I see nothing problematic,” I said.

“Is this why you told me I can’t watch any TV till next Sunday? You got the idea from this book?”

“I haven’t even started reading it,” I lied. I was re-reading it.

“This book should be banned.”

“Book bans happen in countries like China,” I said. “India is a democracy. As an Indian boy, you should not talk of banning any book.”

“As an Indian father, you should not be doing Chinese parenting,” he said. “I won’t let you read this, I am hiding it.”

“Give it to me!”

“No!”

As I tried to grab the book, my elbow tipped over a glass of water, which dropped to the floor and broke into a million little pieces. Hearing the crash, Wife rushed down. “Not one minute of peace in this house! Don’t you have a column to write or something? Why are you harassing him?”

“Hello! I am harassing him? Why don’t you —”

“I don’t have time for this,” she said. “I have a client call in two minutes.”

“Papa is threatening to become super-strict, like a Tiger Papa.”

She looked at Katta’s face, then at the book he was clutching. “You mean he wants to be like Tiger Mom?” She burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” I said.

“I look forward to the day your hyper-woke Papa becomes a Tiger Papa,” she said, retreating up the stairs. “Guys, clean up before someone cuts their foot.”

“What is hyper-woke?” Katta wanted to know.

“It means someone who always says and does the right thing.”

Katta took a minute to absorb that. “Mum is right,” he said. “You do the right thing, most of the time. That’s why you can’t apply Tiger Mom techniques on me.”

“How so?”

“Because it would be wrong. Didn’t you tell me consent is most important when one person has power over another?”

“Yes, but —”

“You have power over me. I don’t consent to Chinese parenting.”

“But it’s for your own good.”

“You also told me that’s what they all say, the bad men — they say it’s for your own good.”

“Alright,” I said. “I won’t apply anything until you’ve read the full book.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Two days later, he handed it back. “It’s a stupid book.”

“Show me one stupid thing.”

He flipped a few pages and began to read. “The Chinese mother believes that schoolwork always comes first, and if your child ever disagrees with a teacher or coach, you must always take the side of the teacher or coach.”

He looked up. “So, next time I have a complaint about any teacher, you will automatically take the teacher’s side?”

I opened my mouth. Then I closed it. The thing is, I’ve always drilled it into Katta to question authority — teachers, coaches, experts, everyone.

I picked up the book. I thought about Chua’s daughters — Sophia’s Carnegie Hall debut, their Harvard acceptances — and then I looked at Katta. A nine-year-old who’d just dismantled a parenting philosophy using the random stuff I’d filled his head with.

I put the book down.

“Fine,” I said. “You win.” Katta smiled, not the smile of a child let off the hook, but the smile of a teacher granting a well-deserved ‘A’ to his most frustrating student.

Which, I suppose, is the closest either of us will ever get to tiger parenting.

The author of this satire is Social Affairs Editor, The Hindu.

Published – March 05, 2026 03:20 pm IST