Question

[3]. Passage:The village school in the delta no longer counts its children in September. Each monsoon now brings water that stays longer, spoils stored grain and forces families to move to brick kilns and construction sites in distant cities. Teachers notice the pattern first: attendance falls, then a desk empties for weeks, then a name disappears from the register altogether. The children who return speak of new cities, night shifts and younger siblings left behind. Those who do not return are not failures of schooling; they are evidence that schooling, as designed, assumes a settled home, a fixed address and a predictable year. A curriculum that ignores seasonal movement punishes the very children it claims to serve. If education is to follow the child rather than wait for the child to return, timetables, textbooks and examinations must travel too, in short modules, in local languages and in forms that survive interruption. The phrase 'a name disappears from the register' most nearly means