But Do I Have To?

You know that awful, heart sinking moment when you have to make a big choice and don't have enough time to think things over and your mind is whirring and buzzing, weighing pros and cons and you're just standing there, wide-eyed and completely freaked out? 

Like when the lady at the counter asks you if you'd like Sid with your Happy Meal or Diego? Sid is the obvious choice but Diego is just so ferocious and so much cooler. Your instinct tells you to go for Sid but your gut holds you back, wondering if you'd regret the decision later.

Then there's that extraordinarily annoying kid who slams his or her fist down on the counter and demands Manny. They just seem so sure of themselves that you can't help but through them a contemptuous glance.




Ahem.

Got a little bit carried away with the metaphor over there. I tend to do that.

But I feel the exact same way right now, with my 12th drawing to an end and huge decisions looming around the corner. 

Until barely two years ago, when my friends parents asked me "So beta, what are your plans for the future?" they seemed satisfied with my shrug and would continue to watch me with what I'd like to call affection, but what the rest of the world would call bewilderment, as I continued to dig my way through a pile of bhel puri as tall as me. 

But now, they gasp loudly and shake their heads ferociously. "Beta! You have less than a year left! If you don't decide now, when will you decide! My sister's husband's aunt's mother-in-law's brother had a daughter just like you! In the end, they had to ship her off to some cheap engineering college. Which stream of engineering are you taking? Do you know that, at least? If not the college you hope to join?"

Again, I have to shrug. This time ready for the loud gasp. "But beta!"...

Meh. You get my drift. So yeah, I belong to the lot of the MOST freaked out kids at the counter. 

Then there's that determined kid who's so sure of themselves. The one who's got everything planned out right down to the number of trees they're going to have in their backyard. 

My options, on the other hand, range from software engineering to journalism to psychology to anthropology and all the way back, to aeronautical engineering. (And on the crazier, highly unlikely side, a professional writer. Hey, at least I was mature enough not to mention pirate.)

My parents are supportive. But after a point, the subtle hints aren't so subtle anymore. My Mother who teaches Humanities, is in Team Humanities. My Father, who is a software engineer, was earlier in Team Engineering, but now, more specifically Team Software Engineering. 

So to the earlier Happy Meal metaphor, let's grab two Twilight fanatics, spray paint over the 'Team Jacob' and 'Team' Edward' on their shirts and replace it with 'Team Diego' and 'Team Sid'. Now put those on either side of the wide-eyed kid at the counter. 

Getting the picture? 

But what is Shakespeare without tragedy? What is Barney without a suit? What is an Indian kid without drama? So I'm sure you all have your own version/had your own version of the Happy Meal Dilemma. With some of you having Uncles and Aunts surrounding you too. 

But bringing our attention back to the wide-eyed kid who has to make the damn choice already because the lady behind the counter is beginning to get creeped out. Sid or Diego?

It's a pity, how quickly we have to make this choice. Sure, in some cases, you can take Sid, and quickly run back and exchange it for Diego before crossing the threshold of the door. (If you can afford the change, that is.)

But the thing is, the walk from the counter to the door is a long way. What if the kid doesn't like Sid, they have to suffer with it for the next ten seconds. 

What if me or one of the thousands of other unsure kids are stuck with a decision for the next 4 years or in some scenarios, rest of their life?

(Have you guys realized how much I love being dramatic yet? Yeah? Well, live with it.)

I don't have a conclusion to this chaos, because I haven't been enlightened yet, sadly. I'm still one worried scrawny little kid.

There is just so much you have to take into account before making a choice like this. Setting the materialistic things aside for a second, which we're all very aware of: Money, stature blah blah. It's just one shot, right? I really don't want to end up in a dimly lit cubicle, as wide as my Physics teacher's belly, hunched in front of a small computer. I know that I want to make a difference. No, not by discovering an alternative fuel or an unlimited source of water. I'm not THAT ambitious. (Until yesterday I wanted to take over the world with help of my djinni, but whatever.) But I want to be significant, I want to help people who need it. I don't want to be lying in my death bed knowing that I made no difference, however small, to the world.

This is getting sappy... Oh, look, a butterfly! 

And on that sharp note, I leave the kid staring fearfully at the now thoroughly creeped out cashier. Because honestly, apart from freaking out and running around in circles, I have no solution. 'Following my heart' just seems to simple. (Following my heart would lead me to my doom. A career as a pirate doesn't pay well nowadays, I hear.) But like some wise guy said, it's not the destination, it's the joueney. We're all so obsessed with reaching the peak of the mountain, we forget to look at the view on the way. So I'm going to continue staring fearfully at the lady (Who's fingers are inching towards the phone to call the police.) but sip at Coke at the same time. Because I'm creepy like that