I can’t even think of a title to address you right now, I just know, that somewhere down the endless bazaars of my childhood, hidden in midst of the electric wires I carelessly played with, which were handled less with dreams, and more with a cheerful disposition of finding too much colours plastered into a thin piece of toy, you silently watched me proudly with a figment of smile as my dad keenly announced to the world that his son was a born engineer. (BTech, IITD’23)
My first doctor set, gifted to me by a much-loved aunt didn’t tell me much about my career prospects at the age of five. As I roamed around my house, checking everyone with the stethoscope and giving them injections and pills to consume, I didn’t know that the toothy grin plastered on the face of my family was not made for my childlike innocence, but their dreams for me, dreamed by them. I had to be made of the stuff that post-mortems not only bodies, but also my dreams.
The Filmfare Awards Night, oh yes, I remember. I remember asking mum where Kareena shops for such fab clothes. I remember mum replying that these elaborate dresses are designed by top designers in the fashion industry. I remember announcing it to the walls of the room, that I am going to be a fashion designer when I grow up, because well who doesn’t want to work with Kareena? I remember, as the words sunk into the walls only as distinguished hope. I remember because the living person in the room didn’t bat an eyelash. I remember as my qualms of wishes, were again dismissed as the word of an inexperienced child.
The claws of these burdened desires take a blunt turn when their sharp edges wound children to the peak of them not even daring to dream, because they know that their desires are not substantial enough in the rat race, where victory is secured not by winning, but by defeating others. Why do we have to create milestones, that can’t measure our own being? Why does everyone has to be affected by prudence so much, that children end up being the subject of comparing quantities? Quantities, in volume of marks scored and in mean of incomes secured. Let’s just do our own thing, is that so difficult to score?
Says a 10 CGPA student, who is taking Commerce with Maths in class 11 and who is often the subject of raised eyebrows, as to why she is wasting her topper status over a stream not considered the finest.