A question of career

Yesterday I called up a friend of my daughter’s who is studying in Dubai to enquire about her Class X board results and was happy to learn that she had scored 86%.

She has joined the science stream and wants to study Environmental Science. That was indeed a pleasant surprise. Because I know her parents to be quite stereotypical in their thoughts and outlook, and had presumed that she’d be under pressure to pursue a more conventional career. ‘Your parents ok with that?’ I asked. ‘Yes auntie, absolutely,’ she replied.

My own daughter, who has done well in the boards wants to have a career in Physics, Quantum Physics to be precise. So no question of “trying for” IIT, MBA or any such thing.

My cousin’s brilliant younger son is in 10th standard and is going to appear in the boards next year, but he already knows he wants to join the Arts stream. He fancies a career in Fine Arts. This is quite startling coz he’s a boy after all (his elder bro is gunning for IIT). When I spoke to the parents they said, ‘No question of forcing. I know it’s a gamble but he is a born artist.’

Are these cases exceptions or is that the norm these days? Have we—hardworking, middle class people become more relaxed about the career our kids are going to have?

What a change from our times!

‘Beta, badi hokar kya banogi?’ What do you want to be when you grow up—I bet we all faced this question as kids. But to me it always amounted to an existential dilemma, as if I was expected to summarise my entire adult life planning in one pithy reply. Unlike my younger brother, who knew he wanted to be an engineer ever since he stopped wearing diapers, I was totally clueless as to what I was going to do with my life for the first two decades of my life! Since both my parents were teachers, it was even more troublesome for me because they had a lot of expectations from their “intelligent” daughter.

“Doctor,” I’d say sometimes; “Engineer” at other times. But by the time I finished tenth I realised science wasn’t my cup of tea, no matter how well I had scored in the board. So it was Arts for me, to the disappointment of my parents, relatives and teachers.

“You are shutting out all the profitable career options,” one teacher said. But no way was I going to mug up Chemistry formulae and dissect cockroaches and frogs. “Ok, take Maths at least,” my father urged, and I did. But still I had no idea what I’d DO. “Lawyer,” I started saying now. But soon realised “Lecturer” got more approving nods. But which subject? I was bored to tears by Economics, Maths was getting tougher, and Philosophy and Political Science were ok but too bookish.

One day I remember, a distant cousin of mine had come down from Delhi. She was a ground staff with Indian Airlines but quite poised and self-assured, and to me she smelt of, well, aeroplanes, although, to be honest, at 16 I hadn’t seen the inside of an aircraft. So to the inevitable question that cropped up during our dinner I found myself saying, “Air Hostess.” Trust me I have no idea why I said so. Stewardressing was a glamorous profession those days; it still is, but the spark of inspiration was probably provided by my sophisticated cousin’s presence. No one spoke except for her who mentioned something about entrance test and training.

Later, after the guests left, all hell broke loose, about me wanting to be an air hostess “to clean people’s vomit and trashing jootha (leftovers).”

Mercifully, by the time I finished 12th I knew that I’d major in English literature. So for the next few years it was assumed that I’d be a lecturer. Little did I know that after PG I’d stumble into a profession that I had never dreamt of…after all, three odd decades ago a journalist was just a penpusher.