The list of life

What if I were not a Lit graduate? Sometimes I wish I were not. I would have looked at life differently, maybe learnt Eliot, Lawrence, Fo, and Achebe on my own. No examinations to give, no pressure to write assigments, it would have been an out-and-out pleasurable experience.

I was always inclined to read, and somewhere the pressure to read within a fixed time period triggered a negative reaction not to read.

And, just a month ago, I was reasoning out with family why I should be pursuing my masters in the subject.

I remember how I cried after seeing my class XII marks. I was devastated to know the best colleges in town are not for me, since I was nowhere near the 80% or above category.

I later took admission at Janki Devi Memorial College. However, in the three lists they put up, my name was not there.

But, my mother, determined to get a seat in that college, sneaked past the security to have a word with the Head of the English Department only to know that my entrance sheet had been overlooked!

So, I was promised entry as soon as there was a dropout, and after a month long wait, I was in. Meanwhile, I studied Elective English, which is a pass course. I am not ashamed today, of whatever happened. In fact, I now realise, I was a victim, like many others, of peer pressure, and the cruel grind of numbers.

Those days, compared to my last days at JDM, where I was awarded the 'Best Student of The Year' rolling trophy, there was bit of redemption!

And then, XIC happened.

Maybe, just maybe, I would have finished graduation in a simple subject, and done my post-grad, one-year diploma in journalism from Jamia, Delhi, or XIC, where I eventually landed with bag and baggage. And then? ...

ANyway, I pursued journalism with no particular target in mind, of where I would eventually land up. I had no inclination to join a newspaper and write on movies, or parties. I had no idea about Mumbai politics, beyond Bal Thackeray, no knowledge absolutely.

So what am I planning for the future? Nothing, really. I am going along with the drift. I have no plans, no deadlines, no ambitions. It all sounds rather strange to everyone else except..me, of course.

I wanted to learn a new language, and I got stuck deciding between Spanish and Russian. And now, I want to learn more about financial markets, and I am wondering if I should pursue a course in economics.

I want to write novels, and poetry. I want to be a travel writer too.

There is no looking back. So, where am I headed from here...