A new building for a play-school named bachpan (childhood) is ready, wearing the color plumes of a strange bird. The colors are mixed and re-mixed like noisy music, generally breaking drums.
The school stands alone among other buildings, like an artificial parrot telling your fortune from a stack of printed cards. The options presented are fixed but covering all possibilities. The color combinations are not even random splashes of childhood.
If this is childhood according to the adults who designed the building and its color collages, it should be really ,really bad. Kitsch cannot be childhood.