I always remember that
time when I was in school and everyone, from teachers to relatives, would let
me precisely know how stupid I am to have done things the way I did, but
looking back at those days, I realize, that the wisest of my decisions had come
during that time. However, these decisions were more attributable to ignorance
and stupidity rather than pure wisdom, but then you could argue on
whether it was ignorance and stupidity or just absolute faith in yourself.
I love the place I grew
up, playing all kind of street games one could ever imagine. Born and brought
up in a relatively small town, some hundred kilometers from Hyderabad, where
people were so obsessed with the place that they’d compare it to the city itself
and try to come to a conclusion which would suggest it indeed is better. Having
visited the city a couple of times, I was aghast at their immaturity. In fact I
didn’t have much knowledge about the town and if the city was actually better;
but in a couple of visits I could surely make out that there was no measure for
comparing the two. If I tried to make my point, I’d be written off as a kid who doesn't have his facts right, or simply too young to be arguing with them.
Opinions like these would normally have instilled fear that I could be plain stupid,
but there was a belief that I was right, the belief that would lead me to a new
high amongst my brethren in that very town, which would be nothing but an
average benchmark among those in the city.
Going back to the days
at my hometown, one thing which was a common sight for me, which indeed is
beyond greatness when I think back about is witnessing large number of people coming
in and out daily to meet my father, a lawyer then, who hardly practiced for
money. A decade later he would tell me about how people would criticize him on
his style and doubt his survival if he continued such free service to the needy,
and about how he always believed that there is a super power to take care of
him if only he took care of those who come to him in need. Exactly around that
time, a man who witnessed my father’s life at the town would say – when someone
wants to help a person in need, the Almighty would make the strangest sources
of income you would not even have dreamt of. And that exactly happened with my
father. I envy his belief to the core with which he lived all his life and was
rightly rewarded, while not even into the start of my own career, I would start
doubting my abilities and lose such faith when someone started criticizing on
the simplest of decisions.
When I was in school,
my sole purpose was to be the exact replica of my father, and hence a strange
love towards studying law had developed in me. I would not say it to anyone
though for reasons I don’t remember. I remember an instance though, during my
last days at school, when everyone had decided what they wanted to become since
it was considered to be the ultimate time to make your decisions affecting your
future, and I was still unsure, rather I had not thought about anything seriously.
Ignorance again it can be said, but a belief that there is something best in
store for me is what I had. I loved my school even though it did not have a
great name for itself even amongst the ones in town. It was known primarily for
being an all-muslim school and since my grand-father was the founding member, I
lived a very easy life there. It was tiny; my classroom would hardly be twenty
feet in length and fifteen in width with just about twenty students amongst
whom I would always come second in academics. The sense of competition had died
after repeated second ranking and I would resort to the fact that I was second
best, though I always felt (self-solace) that the teachers were biased towards
her, my sole competitor.
Coming back to the
instance, it was a time to be nostalgic since I would leave the place I was at
for ten years. An English teacher asks everyone on what their future plans are.
I start thinking as one after the other all my classmates reveal exactly what
they wanted to be in life. My competitor says that she wants to become an
engineer with utmost confidence that would impress the teacher beyond doubt.
After a few minutes, my turn comes up and I decided to be honest. I stand up
and tell the class that I haven’t decided on what I wanted to become. I had not
even finished the sentence when the teacher replied sarcastically –“When are
you going to decide son? After you get married?” Everyone started laughing
while my first thought revolved around the possible reaction of that engineer-to-be.
She was looking at me from the corner of the eye, laughing, like I was a buffoon
at the circus. I was tempted to strangle her to death. As much as I was angry
at the mockery that was made, I was not disappointed neither did I panic. I
believed that there was something great in store.
Class tenth exams were
fine and the results were out. I scored 513/600, a disappointing performance to
ensure that I would be second again in class. Then there was news of her score
- 509/600 and my thoughts suddenly changed. Mine was not a disappointing score
after all. It was the best I could have ever scored. What followed were a few
days of fun when my father asked what I wanted to do and I replied plainly with
the three letters I wanted to study – “Law”. He had an easier option for me, a two
lettered – “CA”. I went by what he said, without the slightest of idea of what
it might be and came to Hyderabad to join in an intermediate course with
Mathematics, Economics and Commerce. No one in my hometown knew what CA would
mean. They’d say I am insane to have opted for a commerce course after scoring
so well in tenth; a few would make a joke that C comes after A in the alphabet
and that too there’s a B in between. On one of the trips to the hometown, I
meet a mathematics teacher from my school who asks what I was doing and when I
replied he makes a disgusting face saying – “Why commerce? If not medicine, at
least go for engineering!” I replied with nothing but a smile. I don’t panic
there either.
After almost seven
years, when everyone at the home town started talking about what a lucrative
option Chartered Accountancy is, the same mathematics teacher, still teaching
at my school, meets me and asks the same question, only this time to get a
reply with a few words along with that smile that I am a qualified Chartered
Accountant. He is overwhelmed and wishes me luck. I wouldn’t say his intention
was wrong when he was disgusted at me, just that he was ignorant and was
concerned about me. But that comment could have instilled a doubt in my mind.
That was not the case to be because what people thought of to be stupidity was
in fact a belief I had. A great man had said – “A man is a product of his
thoughts; what he thinks, he becomes”. My father made me think of becoming
something people had never heard of at my home town. I did. That was the kind
of belief I had.
Today, the coin seemed
to have flipped. With so many unfavorable opinions about what I was doing, I
had never panicked; but I panic today at the simplest of criticizing thought
that others put across. I think too much on the possible consequences if I do
what I want to do. I imagine and believe that the worst will happen, like people
say, if I take the odd route. And amidst all the negativity, I lost the faith
that I had. I stopped believing in myself.
My father still
suggests me things to do I never heard of, which I write off as highly
impossible. I could have thought the same when he suggested that I pursue
Chartered Accountancy, which I had never heard of then; but there was this
belief. I envy myself when I think about those days and struggle to be the same.
I envy how I took risks without even a tinge of doubt in my heart and overcome
all odds. I envy how I used to be a brute driven by instinct.
If what I did when I
was young was ignorance, I would love be that ignorant today and if it was stupidity,
I would want to be stupid all my life. But I knew for sure, it was something
else, something divine, a belief that I can do whatever I want, which most of
us lose when we grow up and can never recover. This place is full of critics
and they call you wise only when you take their opinion. If that is wisdom for
the world, we should rather choose to be young and supposedly stupid…
