O for Originality

"what do you want to be when you grow up", ….

"Can I be anything that I want to be"...

"Yeah why not, you just have to work hard, and then you can be anything you want".

"I want to be an engineer ", I repeated, what my mother asked me to respond to this question.

Though I initially wanted to be a teacher, then a policeman, then an airplane pilot, and lastly a cricketer, before I gave up on dreaming of what I wanted to be. I was told that my dreams are practically impossible to be achieved.

Then I was sent to a drawing class, in addition to school. I didn't want to go to the drawing class at 5 o'clock every evening, since this was the time all my friends came out of home to play around this hour. But I didn't have a voice, or probably others didn't care to listen to it. For the next two years, almost every day I would be in a drawing class when my heart yearned to play with friends outside. 

After my initial struggle, I realized that I don't have an option so I started taking an interest in drawing. And I started loving it as I improved every passing day. I didn't miss playing with my friends now, because I made a friendship with my drawing. 

Life seemed to going fine, just when I got into my 5th grade. I was abruptly taken out of my drawing class and sent to science tuition instead. I was told that drawing cannot help me shape my future, I need to study and score well in my exams. What happened to dreams that just started taking shape with those crayons in my hand? I thought, but I was too afraid to ask them.

My life turned monotonous since then. Going to school in the morning, coming back home changing my dress, and having my lunch. As I sat down with the drawing sheet on my table it was time for tuition. I would dress up again and leave home for it, by the time I come back the sun would already be set, so I would have milk, complete my home works have dinner, and sleep. I was fed up with my life, and in addition, I hated my tuition and the subject.

I would take up commerce after I get to choose the subject at this year-end. I loved to read and know about how money works, and then I could work in the government that manages money. My plan was set, and since I was told I could be anything that I wished to be, this didn't seem like a difficult dream.

As my class's 8th results were announced, and It was a decision day. My parents accompanied me to my parents' teachers' meeting. I passed all the subjects even though the scores were in the 40s in most of my math and science subjects. My class teacher and parents were disappointed at my performance, but a ray of hope arrived on the face of my parents when he disclosed that I am eligible to take up science in the coming year since I managed to pass all the subjects.

"But I want to take up commerce", I announced.

My class teacher looked at me with a shocked face, while my parents gave me a non-approving glare. When my teacher gave me a subject selection form to sign, I was made to put a whitener to the tick mark that I had put in front of the commerce column, and I was to check the box next to Science with Maths. This was probably the first time when my choices were white-washed in front of my eyes. 

When I reached home, with a sad face, I was first scolded for not scoring enough marks and then I was told that commerce as a subject doesn't have a future scope. Moreover, If I still want to study commerce I can take it up after I complete my 10th and take admission into class 11th.

As the year went on, I somehow managed to do away with my science phobia and gelled well with the subject eventually. I worked hard to convince my parents of my skills and potential and scored 92 percent in my 10th. 

When It was time to pick the subject for my 11th and 12th, the whitener was put next to the column that read Physics, Chemistry with Biology, and the column that read Physics, Chemistry with Math was decided to be future buddies. There was a better future scope in that stream. Even though I expressed my deepest hate toward engineering as a stream in the past two years, I was enrolled in the coaching that prepared students for the engineering entrance exam.

Since I performed outstandingly well in the coaching entrance exam, I was not being charged a penny for either my stay, coaching, or school. But unlike all the previous times, I couldn't force myself to be comfortable with the hypercompetitive nature of the preparation, that I dearly hated.

I started getting into depression with all the pressure from outside and conflicts inside, so I requested for allowing myself to drop at least from the coaching program. And since we didn't pay any fees for it, I expected my parents to be cool about it. It was a win-win situation for them, they got to save their Child's mental health, and they also don't lose any money in the process of doing it. 

A couple of years later I found myself in a local engineering college, in an unknown city. The choice was particularly interesting as I didn't even know the name of the city, let alone the college even a day before I was sent to take admission into it. But the fees were significantly lower than most. I got an easy admission into the computer science and engineering branch which was supposed to be the only good branch in engineering. The admission process was so easy that I was the highest-scoring individual taking admission to college. 

I did fairly well there, joined work straight after college, and climbed the corporate ladder. 

Ten years later, after chasing salaries, perceived success, a ton of frustrations, and headaches. 

On my thirty-fifth birthday today, when life ahead seems to be significantly shorter. I feel an ache in my heart. Was I even the original one, or another one of the puppets that the world wanted to create? I still don't know who I am. What do I love to do after my work, what is my dream profession, and which city would I love to spend the rest of my life in? What are the things on my checklist, which of them did I check off till now, or wait did I even have a checklist?

"What do you want to be when you grow older?", 

Today when anybody asks this question Sanskriti, my five-year-old daughter. 

"I don't know yet, and I don't want to know it anytime soon", my daughter replies.

I feel a sense of pride in hearing the response and knowing and making sure that she will be whatever she wants to be. I won't let anybody decide it and throw it on top of her. She would be everything that she truly wants to be, "the original Sanskriti"