Perspicacity: Are we what we want to be??

I was spending yet another weekend away from home, and there was no better way to spend it than to spend it with my friend, Gulli. That Saturday night, after one of the ‘Ready to Eat’ Pavbhaji dinners, and lot of gossiping, we settled into bed. While folding her clothes into a neat pile, Gulli showed me a top I had gifted her on one of her previous birthdays. A top I had designed and embroidered myself. She told me of how everyone who saw the top for the first time praised it to no end. And that set me thinking… Am I where I wanted to be??

It was 7th grade. I was sitting in the last bench with my friends Namita and Priyanka looking over my shoulder as I put the finishing touches to the pencil sketch of a beautiful old day English gown. I had designed it myself and in my mind’s eye I had imagined it to be a pale green, which was only apt I thought, since the design involved motifs of leaves. The previous pages of the lil notebook were filled with some such designs of gowns. And on the hard front cover was written the name ‘ROSE LONEY’ in bold black, with a symbol in green, blue and pink. I had designed that symbol too, which I believed would one day be the trade mark of a famous fashion designer - ME.

At that same moment a tall thin man walked into the noisy class and introduced himself as Mr. Hemant Kumar, the new computer teacher. I looked up and my friends rushed to their places. I reluctantly but hastily, closed the book, still thinking who would model my dresses when I was a designer. I set my mind upon Priyanka, since she was really tall and slim. He rapped on the table again, and we were all intently listening........

The bell rang finally, and that day at school had ended. We walked home, talking excitedly of what we had learnt and the new things we would be doing. I reached home and opened the door to my parent’s room to tell them all about the computers course. But my parents and my sister were in deep conversation. They were deciding on what career path my sister was to choose. My sister was talking about computers too. She wanted to be a Computer Science
Engineer. My father seemed happy with the decision. Computers were the future after all. My Mom dropped hints about the noble profession of Doctors. But they were duly ignored. My brother had joined me by now. My sister turned to us and announced her decision.

At that point, as I stood listening, somewhere in my conscience my dream was grasping and choking to survive. As I described my first computer class, I unconsciously knew that my path had been chosen for me.

5 Years later…..

In my parent’s room, my parents and I were in deep conversation. We were deciding on what career path I was to choose. My mother was shaking her head. It’s not a noble profession. Why not become a doctor? You love biology. And it’s more suitable for girls. Fashion designing is frowned upon in our family. NIFT is far off from home. You’ll stray into bad company.

I stood there imagining myself as my mom thought I would end up 5 years from then. Anorexic, skimpily clad, tattooed lads with too much money, smoking and maybe drinking too. I laughed. Me?? Never. I’ll be a designer with a difference.

On my parent’s insistence I call my sister, a software engineer employed by Infosys. Don’t you like Computers? Remember that day 5 years back? How excited you were. It’s a comfortable life. Good pay and it’s very challenging. Take computers Rose. Laughs. You, john and me can start a software firm. Pappa will be the manager. I turn around as the door opens, looking for anyone who would support me. My brother enters, back from college, holding his computer graphics text. I close my eyes and give up. In my heart, my dream sheds a last tear that joins a well of others. I comfort it. Maybe 5 years from now you’ll be reborn like the phoenix. Take heart.

Today….

I’m a software engineer with Tata Consultancy Services. It seems to everyone that I was born to do nothing but this. I search far and wide for creativity in this world of IT. I barely find any. As a vent for my creative desire, I go shopping over the weekend with Gulli. Buy some clothes and design others. I am my own model and sometimes Gulli consents to be a guinea pig.

As these thoughts cross my mind a few tears escape my eyes. Gulli asks, what’s the matter? I tell her what I have been thinking. Are we what we want to be? I don’t hear her answer, but as I slip into slumberland, the ashes of my dream, cough up an answer...... You are yet only Twenty Three.....