CBSE: The Dream, The Burden, The Future

Morning Scenes We All Know

It is half past eight. The yellow bus stops with a loud horn. Children step down with bags that look almost as big as themselves. Parents call out reminders. Teachers wait at the gate with registers in hand.

This is not one school. This is almost every CBSE school in India.

CBSE is not just a syllabus. It is a daily routine. It is the pride of many families. It is also the quiet sigh of many children. It is the road most Indian children walk, though the road is not always easy.

 

The Promise of CBSE

CBSE has always spoken of big dreams. It says it wants to give a vibrant and holistic education. It says it will shape children who are confident and competent. It says its schools will give stress free learning, where exams are guides and not threats.

These are fine promises. Who would not want such a school for their child?

 

The Push for Change

In recent years CBSE has tried to move closer to this dream. It has spoken of Competency Based Education. The idea is that learning should not stop at memory. It should be about doing.

A math lesson should not end with formulae. It should also teach how to plan a budget at home. A science lesson should not remain in the notebook. It should be seen in the kitchen when steam rises or in the market when a bulb is bought.

CBSE also started SAFAL, which means Structured Assessment for Analysing Learning. This checks how much a child has understood in classes three, five, and eight. It is not for promotion but to guide schools and parents.

Above all stands NEP 2020, the new national policy. It speaks of using the mother tongue till class five. It brings vocational training into schools. It calls for lighter bags and more flexible board exams.

 

The Reality of Bags and Marks

But walk into any street outside a school and you will see the truth. Children still carry heavy bags. Parents still worry about notebooks and guides. Coaching centres remain full.

Board exams in class ten and twelve continue to be times of stress. Homes turn silent. Evenings are spent in long study hours. Children sleep late and rise early.

CBSE says it wants stress free education. Yet in practice the burden is still heavy.

 

The Strengths of CBSE

To be fair, CBSE has strengths that are real.

• It is found everywhere, from big cities to small towns.
• It helps children of parents who are transferred often, such as soldiers or railway staff.
• Its syllabus is close to national entrance exams, giving a strong base for IIT and medical tests.
• Model schools like Kendriya Vidyalayas and Navodaya Vidyalayas show good discipline and inclusiveness.
• New subjects like coding and entrepreneurship are slowly finding space.

 

Who Should Take the CBSE Path?

• Families who move often and want one common syllabus.
• Students who are aiming at Indian competitive exams.
• Parents who want affordable schooling that is widely available.
• Children who like clear rules and steady schedules.

 

Who May Not Be Happy in CBSE?

• Creative children who bloom in freedom and open projects.
• Parents who want more play and less rote.
• Families who can afford global boards like IB or Cambridge.
• Students who feel anxious under exam pressure.

 

The Road Ahead

For CBSE to live up to its dream, it must reduce the weight of both the bag and the mind. Projects should take the place of endless guides. Curiosity should take the place of rote. Marks should become milestones and not mountains. Teachers should guide and not just command.

We have seen hope already.

• A Kendriya Vidyalaya teacher explains evaporation using a kitchen story.
• A Navodaya child learns unity by living with friends from every state.
• A Delhi Public School class learns coding through games and teamwork.

These are not rare. They are seeds of the future.

 

Closing Thought

CBSE is the backbone of Indian schooling. A backbone is meant to give strength and balance, not to bend underweight.

Today CBSE stands between promise and practice. It speaks of joy, but many children still feel pressure. Yet change is possible and already visible.

The choice before us is simple. Do we keep walking on the old road of rote, or do we shape it into a new path of joy, creativity, and courage?

In the end, education is not only about notebooks and exams. It is about a child’s laughter when learning makes sense, and a parent’s smile when they see growth beyond marks.

 

The International Baccalaureate

 

Education has always moved like a river, carrying traditions and ideas. In India the Gurukula system made learning a way of life. Students stayed with their teacher, practised discipline, learnt values, and absorbed knowledge in daily living. In Rome, Italy, Maria Montessori opened her first Casa dei Bambini in 1907. She allowed children to explore freely. Her classrooms invited them to touch, move, and discover. Both Gurukula and Montessori remind us that true education is not about collecting facts. It is about shaping a complete human being.

By the middle of the twentieth century, the world was unsettled. Families travelled across borders. Children who moved from one country to another often-lost years of study. Each nation had its own syllabus and examinations. In Geneva a group of teachers asked a daring question. Could there be one shared passport for learning. This question planted the seed of the International Baccalaureate. The organisation was registered in Geneva in 1968. Two years later twelve schools in ten countries conducted the first IB Diploma examinations.

The Story

• Began with the needs of children who moved between countries
• Registered in Geneva in 1968
• First Diploma exams in 1970 with twelve schools
• Drawn from the ideas of John Dewey, Jean Piaget, A S Neill, and Kurt Hahn

The Philosophy

The IB treats the learner as an explorer. Students are guided to ask questions, make connections, and think deeply. The aim is to form thoughtful and responsible individuals who can live with respect for difference and with openness to the wider world.

What it is today?

The IB has grown into a complete pathway for students from early childhood to the end of school years. There are four programmes, each with its own rhythm. Together they form a journey from the first questions of a child to the reflections of a young adult.

 

Programme	Age group	Teaching & learning methods	Key features
Primary Years Programme (PYP)	3 – 12 years	Inquiry based, concept driven, transdisciplinary learning	Big themes like Who we are or, How the world works guide lessons. Focus on curiosity, agency, and action. Skills such as thinking, research, and communication are built naturally.
Middle Years Programme (MYP)	11 – 16 years	Inquiry continues, interdisciplinary approach, global contexts	Students learn through real world themes such as community, sustainability, identity. Strong emphasis on personal project in final year. Assessment is continuous with feedback.
Diploma Programme (DP)	16 – 19 years	Depth in subjects + reflection, project based, independent research	Students take six subjects plus three core elements: Theory of Knowledge, Extended Essay, and Creativity, Activity, Service. Inquiry is balanced with rigour. Both formative and summative assessment are used.
Career related Programme (CP)	16 – 19 years	Blend of academic and vocational learning, applied projects, internships	Students take IB subjects along with career studies. Core focuses on personal and professional skills, ethical reflection, and real-world application.

 

The Digital Question

The IB was born in a time when classrooms were opening up and teachers were seeking new methods. Today children live in a digital world where information appears without pause. The question is no longer how to access knowledge but how to filter and use it wisely. The IB addresses this by giving importance to reflection, good judgment, and the ability to ask questions (genuinely!). Technology provides speed. The IB reminds learners to balance that speed with depth and pause.

My Reflection

From the Gurukula courtyards, to Montessori’s first classroom in Rome, to the international halls of Geneva, education has always moved with the rhythm of its time. The International Baccalaureate is the voice of our present age. It encourages young people to question, to search for meaning, and to engage with the world around them.

In my view the IB is a strong and thoughtful model. It prepares students for a life that is fast and uncertain, yet it also reminds them to think deeply and act with balance. At the same time, it has its limits. The cost makes it unreachable for many families. Its international emphasis can sometimes leave little space for local roots. Not every school has the resources or trained teachers to carry its vision fully.

Even with these challenges, the IB has created a system that gives children confidence, builds resilience, and opens their minds to many perspectives. It is not a replacement for older traditions but another stream in the river of education. What may come next could be another vision of learning born in India, one that draws from our civilisational heritage while speaking to the needs of a global future.

 

References

• International Baccalaureate Organization. The History of the IB. 2017 URL: https://www.ibo.org/
• Montessori, Maria. The Montessori Method. 1912, URL: https://digital.library.upenn.edu/women/montessori/method/method.html 
• Altekar, A S. Education in Ancient India. 1944 URL: https://archive.org/details/educationinancie032398mbp 

 

Education as Well Being: The Spirit of the Gurukula

Gurukula: The Forest Schools of Ancient India

Long ago, in the quiet forests of India, education did not take place in large buildings or crowded classrooms. It happened in small hermitages where children lived with their teacher, sharing his roof, his food, and his way of life. These were the Gurukulas, the forest schools, where learning was not just about study but about shaping character.

A New Beginning

When a child entered a Gurukula, it was seen as a new birth. The boy or girl left the comfort of home and came with firewood in hand as a symbol of readiness to serve. From that moment, the teacher became a second parent. The student belonged to the teacher’s family and was guided not only in knowledge but also in discipline and values.

Life in the Hermitage

Life in the Gurukula began before sunrise. Students bathed in the river, offered prayers, and chanted hymns. Then came the chores — sweeping the huts, bringing water, caring for animals, and tending the sacred fire. These daily tasks were as important as study, for they built patience and humility. Lessons were given under trees or by the fire, where the teacher recited and the students repeated until the words were held in memory. After that came reflection and questions. The forest schools were alive with dialogue, where students dared to ask about the mysteries of life and teachers answered with stories, examples, and sometimes with silence.

Stories of Devotion

Many stories from these schools show how much students valued their teachers. One such tale is about Satyakama, who was sent to care for a small herd of cows until they grew to a thousand. He stayed in the wilderness for years, faithfully guiding them. In his solitude he learned lessons from the very creatures around him, and by the time he returned, his teacher saw the glow of wisdom on his face.

Another story tells of Aruni, whose teacher’s field was threatened by a burst in the water channel. Aruni tried to repair it but could not stop the flow. So he lay down in the gap with his own body, holding back the water through the night. When the teacher found him at dawn, he was deeply moved. He lifted Aruni with care and blessed him with insight that later made him a great sage.

There is also the tale of Upamanyu, who gave away all the food he collected to his teacher and tried to survive quietly. He grew weaker and was blinded by poisonous leaves. When divine beings offered him a cure, he refused to taste it before offering it first to his teacher. Such devotion touched even the gods, and his sight was restored.

The Teacher and the Student

The relationship between teacher and pupil was sacred. The teacher was more than an instructor; he was a guide of the spirit. The student’s duty was not only to remember the lessons but to live by them. Knowledge was treated as a trust. Pride could take it away, humility could deepen it. One story tells of a proud student who lost the verses he had learned, only to receive new wisdom through his perseverance and faith. Such tales remind us that learning was not about possession but about inner growth.

A Gift of Gratitude

At the end of their time, students offered a gift of gratitude to the teacher. Sometimes it was simple. At other times it was remarkable. Krishna, as a student, was asked by his teacher to bring back his lost son. He crossed seas, fought a demon, and even entered the realm of death to restore the boy to life. Such was the honour given to the teacher’s word.

Why the Gurukula System Matters

Education in the Gurukula was life itself. Learning was never separated from living. Every task of the day, whether caring for the fire, tending the cows, or fetching water, was counted as education. Character was the foundation. Discipline, humility, patience, and respect grew naturally through routine and service.

The bond between teacher and student was sacred. It was not only a matter of lessons and examinations but of living together and observing how the teacher prayed, spoke, or worked. Dialogue and questioning were encouraged. Students were invited to seek answers to the deepest mysteries, and teachers guided them with patience. Gratitude completed the circle. At the end of study, the student offered thanks, ensuring that knowledge remained free from trade and filled with reverence.

Reflections for Today

It is tempting to imagine that the Gurukula could be recreated exactly as it was in the ancient forest. But times have changed. Children now grow up in towns and cities. Schools serve hundreds rather than a handful. Knowledge has expanded far beyond the verses of scripture and the skills of the household. Carrying firewood to a teacher’s hut is no longer possible, nor is it practical for every child to live away from home.

Yet the spirit of the Gurukula can still be applied in gentle and meaningful ways. Instead of tending a sacred fire at dawn, schools might begin with a few minutes of quiet reflection. The act of collecting food for the teacher can be reimagined as community service, such as planting trees, sharing meals with the poor, or keeping public spaces clean. These carry the same lessons of humility and responsibility.

The close bond between teacher and student is difficult in crowded classrooms, but it can be revived through mentoring groups. A teacher guiding a small circle of ten or twelve pupils can build the same trust and care. Discipline need not mean harsh routines but can be taught through regular habits, shared tasks, and activities that build cooperation.

There are also lessons of equality. In the past, the Gurukula was not always open to all. Today, education must be inclusive, welcoming every child regardless of background. The best way forward is to carry the essence of the Gurukula - the personal guidance, the daily discipline, the questioning mind, and the gratitude at the end - and merge it quietly with the strengths of modern schools.

Imagine a classroom where lessons are balanced with moments of reflection, where students learn not only from books but also from caring for a garden, helping in the community, and practising gratitude. That would be a Gurukula in spirit, alive not in the forests but in our towns and schools.

The Gurukula cannot return in its old form, but its light can still guide us. What was once taught by the fire in the forest can now be taught in homes, classrooms, and communities. The essence is unchanged: to live what we learn, to respect those who teach, and to allow education to shape both the mind and the heart.