We briefed the tiger-parent as a household pressure every Bengali student knows, set into Kalighat's gift for drawing power in a single gesture. The mother looms from the upper left in an indigo saree with a brick-red border, bent over the study desk, one finger stabbing the open book as if the answers might rise off the page under enough force. Below and to the right her son slumps with a cheek propped on one hand, a pencil idle in the other, the glum patience of a child waiting out a lecture he has heard before. We built the layout as a diagonal of pressure running down into resignation, set a stack of red-and-blue textbooks at the desk's edge as the weight on his afternoon, and kept the palette to indigo, red and the boy's grey-blue shirt so the mother's saree carries the force. No report card, no school logo, no screen — the satire, and its small ache, live in the finger and the slump.