I was strolling though the temple premises with my cousins
when a person came up to us. He knew my cousins and they introduced me to him. When
I said that I completed my class twelve, the quite obvious question came to
lips.
“Which subject did you take up?”
“Bio- Math” I retorted with a glum expression. He was
clearly impressed by that little subject detail and his face lit up as if I had
just answered a million dollar question.
“Oh! So you want to become a doctor or an engineer?” He
asked me with that aged face gleaming in anticipation of an impressive answer.
“I want to be a writer.” I said looking him in the eyes.
“A WHAT?” He asked in quite an alarming tone. He had clearly
not seen this coming.
“A WRITER.” I repeated in the same tone emphasizing on the ‘writer’
part, so that he would not even dream of repeating the question.He certainly didn’t like what I said and looked at me as if I
had slapped him right across his face.
“Uhmm…so children, I think I must take your leave.” He said
and walked away. I am pretty sure that all the way home he must have been
comparing the careers of doctors, engineers and ‘mere-writers’ as they put it.
It was not the first time that I had countered that question
of what-do-you-want-to-be. The questioning becomes tougher when the curious
strangers come to know that I had taken up science. Now is that a crime- taking
up science and dreaming to be a writer? Unless your aspiration is to treat
patients or build structures people really do not count you.
It is as if creative professions like writing, directing,
fashion designing etc are nothing at all. For me even if I am locked up in a
room with just a paper and a pen, I would still be happy. Because I would write
about what it feels like to be in a locked room- I would describe the
suffering, suffocation and above all a caged-bird feeling. Even if I sleep for
a few minutes I dream about my favourite things, among them one being me
publishing new write-ups and novels… and sometimes even thronged by
interviewers and reporters.
Somewhere people are still stuck up in the prejudiced notion
that if we study science we must be either doctors or engineers- “professional course”
as they call it. The others are just “degree courses”. The distinction between
both of this is like: you walking into a
roadside café and going to a five-stared hotel to have food. It is a sort of
suffocating partiality which is beyond comprehension.
Passion and dreams are advised to be buried somewhere in our
mind where it would not surface up. Burying it there, people join colleges
offering professional courses paying a huge amount of money and attend the classes
paying the least amount of attention.
Convincing parents to let you follow your dreams is worse
than convincing them for an inter caste love marriage. At last relenting is the
only option which leaves their pockets empty and your heart unhappy. Still then
the jumbo thing is that you are doing ‘a
professional course’. Almost five or
six years are spent studying thing s that you are least interested in. mugging
up stuff that seem so alienating to you and despite these desperate attempts,
life dumps you- where you just flunk it all.
When I read novels, I love reading the small account written
about the authors. Going through those I always have noticed that most of the Indian
authors are by profession something really contradicting. Some charted
accountants, most of them engineers but fewer doctors though. A majority of
them had an ingrained love for writing right from an early age but gave it up
for their parents and an all too bugging society.
But desires of heart are hard to be suppressed. It will pour
out like a flood on or the other day. Passion, desires and dreams are not to be
suppressed: let it flow, with utmost speed. It is the gift of god that needs to
be cherished and valued always.
The people in India need to understand that creative
professions are also just like the others. For me struggling for my passion
gives much satisfaction than earning a lot by what I really hate. Each sunrise
should excite me with the ideas if new things and newer ways to live it. I want
to wake up each day with a radiating smile on my face looking forward to do what
I crave to.
Never do I ever wish to wake up cursing the workplace colleagues
or the all-too-grumpy boss. Had India been a little more broadminded who knows
we might have had hundreds of Paulo Coelhos from our own country. People really
should stop rating jobs-. All professions have hitches and merits. Nothing is
to be looked down upon because it depends entirely on a person what to do in
their life. If they have got their heart’s call they must be allowed to run or
race after it. Ultimately that is what will bring an unwavering smile on their
face.
This story is not just about a dreamer like me, but about
those thousands of children who have passion but are forced to bury them
somewhere deep in the sands of time.
Follow your heart,
pursue your passion and dare to dream…because every successful life begins with
a small dream seen in odd times.
good work. Be sincere in every attempts.
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