Isn't it funny how life throws curve-balls at us? Question isn't why. Question should be what do you do when you see it coming?
Since I was in primary school, every time someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, the answer invariably supplied was 'doctor'. Everywhere I went, everyone I met seemed to reiterate this ‘foregone’ conclusion. I went through my entire school-life believing I would someday be Dr Zeenath Reza Khan.
Come 11th grade, I somehow managed to get the highest grades in Math and ICT!
Math and ICT!
Not Biology and Chemistry, but Math and ICT!
Come 12th grade, I could not get myself to take Physics. All through school, my Math teacher who was also my Physics teacher used me as ‘an exception to the rule – if you are good in math, you are good in Physics’. I was very good in Maths but not so good in Physics. I had still managed an ‘A’ in my 11th grade exam for Physics, but could not see myself studying it any further.
By now, I had also already developed the worst-case of feeling ‘sympathetic pain’ ever when I saw or heard anyone get hurt, and a heightened aversion to the sight of blood.
So much for pursuing a career in medicine, I thought!
I signed my first-ever contract and it was with my dad when I decided I would not be pursuing a degree in Medicine. He wanted me to take accountability for my decision and be responsible for my career choice. It was the first taste of adulthood. I was barely 18 then.
I loved to write. Had published articles in the school newsletter and the leading children’s magazines. Had even completed internships in the leading newspapers over a couple of summers. So, a natural alternative to medicine seemed to be English Literature or Journalism.
But two months later, on the fateful day Princess Diana died in a horrific car crash in the tunnels of London chased by Paparazzi, dad asked me if I would like to stay back with them or go back home to study.
Like that was even a choice!
So he drove me to see the campus of a western university that was introducing some new degrees in the country that I had come to consider as home away from home, spoke to the admissions and an hour later, I found myself registered for a Bachelor of Computer Science.
A month before leaving on my journey to find my career and two months before my admission, a conversation with one of my school friends went something like this:
“So what would you like for me to send back as a souvenir for you?” I had asked her
“Oh how about a limousine?” she joked
“Oh I don’t think you get it there,” I replied
“How about a Corvette?” she quizzed, giggling
“Nope, not available either,” I managed between bouts of laughter and tears that I might never see her again. I was going back home for higher education. She was going away to another far-away country.
After a few more random, expensive car names, she said with a pause, “How about a Pentium?”
That gave me a pause. Then I asked in return, “What kind of a car is that?”
Three years later, I graduated with a degree in Computer Science! My programming skills weren’t the best, but my logic was quite unique. Ask my lecturers – they could never figure out how my programs actually worked or ran to give the outputs they wanted! Go figure!
This was the year 2000. The new millennium with all the Y2K fears which of course turned out to be largely exaggerated.
Remember that contract I had signed with dad? One of the clauses he had me agree to stated that I would not only pursue the career I now chose, but would actually be successful in it. If only I knew what that entailed!
After bouncing between jobs for nine months, I got a call back from my university asking me to join as a lab assistant. It felt like a calling. Like I was meant to pursue this career. As a teacher. From there, I went on to develop a unique hands-on, student-centric teaching style, pioneering many competitions, events and teaching techniques that got recognized by colleagues and peers and hailed by my students.
Fast forward 15 years. I am now an assistant professor, having successfully completed my dissertation from a prestigious western university under full fee-waiver scholarship while raising a beautifully energetic and intelligent daughter, established and leading scholar and researcher in my area with hordes of publications, awards, accolades, grants and such under my cap.
Did I make it? Did I fulfil the terms of my contract with my dad? Did I fulfil his, my mom’s and my dreams?
Ask him.
Comments