Pratham

It was the summer of 2024. The last exam for the academic year had just come to end. Students spill out of their exam halls; some proud of their paper and some not so proud. Yet everyone was glad, for there were holidays to look forward to.

Pratham too was glad that his papers were done. He could now peacefully pack his bags and turn in at the airport tomorrow. Wishing his friends a happy journey, he walked towards his apartment.

"Two years passed in a jiffy. And I thought I had plenty of time to figure out my future," he thought to himself. How quickly was he ageing? He had dreams of going to university but by the time he woke up, he was done with it.

Suddenly his train of thought were paused by a broken pavement slab. He was accustomed jump over it or carefully walk around it without falling into the open sewage. Today he had to step on the road to cross it. "Ah Bangalore! When will you work on your pavements?" he moaned. After crossing a couple more blockage like this, he finally reached his home.

"Woof, woof!" barked his dog as soon has he unlocked his apartment. "Papa is back, Olie," he said to his dog and stoke his fur gently. He then went to the kitchen and tore open a dog food and poured it into Olie bowl. Then he poured himself a cup of water and pulled his chair towards the balcony. Nostalgia had hit him.

Born to an academically inclined family, his parents wanted majority of his time to be devoted to education. Rest could be done later. They provided him books, took him to extra classes and even asked a college senior to tutor him. Thus most of his time was spend according to a schedule charted by his parents. By the time it was over, it was midnight and he was too tired to do anything recreational.

"Father I was thinking about visiting a place," he suggested one day. Lowering his newspaper a little he asked, "Do you have a holiday, son?" "I do. Wouldn't it be refreshing if we had an outing? I could come back more energetic," he said pitching a plan. "So when is your holiday?" his father asked. "The day after tomorrow," Pratham said excitedly. "And when is your next exam?" his father asked. "5 days after that," said he realising his father subtle deny. "Good thing you realised early. Now quickly have your breakfast and get ready for school.

Another day he asked his mother, "Mother, don't feel stuffy in this house? Do you want to go on a vacation for a while?" To which his mother replied, "You are in your crucial part of your career, let that complete, we shall take a vacation. As far for getting me a vacation, I get to visit the market, shopping centers and hair salons for errands, it's a mini-vacation for me."

As soon as he completed his high school, Pratham was asked to choose a career options for his future. He had harboured a secret love for art while observing the pictures in his books and want to take up that as a career. But if he did ever breath his tryst to his parents, they would immediately reason him with the possibility of a career out of it. They preferred the socially normative route of medicine, engineering, civil services or professorship. His father being a district magistrate added on expectance to become one like him or even reach the high court.

"Father, mother. I was thinking if I am sitting for UPSE, would it be possible for me to take a choice subject for graduation and post graduation?" he blurted out. "Hmm, depends on what do you want to do. If Humanities is on the plate then I am sorry son, I have to choose a better prospectives for you," said his father clearly. Gulping he said, "I want to take up History as my major. It's comes under Social Sciences" His parents looked at each other, contemplating wheather the social part of the course would degrade all they had built up for him or his decision to not rebel and take up anything that has to do with social convention. "Alright, if this what you want to do. Better not slag off thinking it is easy," said his father. "And promise us that you shall not astray? People might have different ideas and ambitions about life. But remember, we have kept a path for you on which if you walk, you shall find happiness.

"Happiness! Happiness!" echoed in mind as he was brought back to the present. Olie lay beside him as the dusk had approached, lowering the amount of natural light into the room. He got up and switched on the lights of his flat. The phone buzzed off. It was his mother.

"How did the paper go?" she asked immediately. "It went well. I answered all the questions. Now it upto the professors to award me marks," he repeated his answer. "You always say that. A student is the best evaluator for his paper," she said. "Do you need anything from here? I am packing tonight," he said as he stood on his bed to pull out his luggage. "Here we have everything we want. Remember to bring your test papers and guides. We have created an apt environment for you to study," she instructed. "Okay mother. Anything else or I am ending the call," he said impatient. "Hold on, your father wanted to speak to you," she said and gave it to her husband.

"Your mother was telling you had a job offer. And why didn't you discuss with us before accepting it? What is going on?" he asked questions upon questions. "We will have the conversation back home. As of now, let me pack my bags," replied Pratham calmly. "We shall see to that. Meet you tomorrow then," said his father and ended the call. After bringing the luggage down, he sat on his bed revising all he would say to his parents. It would no doubt agitate them and he might face a sever backlash but he would stand up for himself.

Five years prior when he attended his first class for his major, his parents acted strange. They did not bug him with the question "What did they teach for the day?" He waited for a whole week yet they seemed to be least bothered about it. "Mother, are you alright?" he asked curiously. "Of course I am, why do you ask?" she asked in turn. "You didn't ask anything on my studies this whole week," he confronted her. "I have to be immune son. Now that you have started taking your own choices including academically, who am I to stand on your way. Your father and me shall no longer come on your way. Rejoice your freedom.

"Freedom! Freedom!" echoed in his head as he came back to present. He realised the door bell was ringing and Olie was barking at it. He hurried and unlocked the door. "I can't thank you enough Chandrika," he said and hugged the person. She went on her knees and ruffled Olie's shiny fur. "Do you want coffee, tea or anything else?" he asked. "Stop acting like my mother back in Nagaland. Anytime a guest would come, she would force them into drinking or eating something, " she said and crashed on his couch. "Olie tends to have mood swings so here are his toys. Remind me to give you the dog food and medicine when you leave," he said and went in. "Did you parents side with your decision?" she shouted. "I shall have to convince them. Even after that there is 80% percent chances they would deny. Let's have postive thought meanwhile," he shouted back at her. "I am sure you shall be able to convince them. In worst case scenario, my parents shall aid you in convincing them," she said coming to his room.

Two years back, his graduation results were released. It was good enough for him to get into a reputed university in Bangalore. As he went to share the good news with his parents, he failed to find the same enthusiasm. "Three year already over! Two more to go then you shall prepare for civil services," was his father's only reaction. "Why are hell bent on leaving us? There are good universities over here. Get into one," said his mother. "The course I want to pursue is in the university. Plus I want to live on my own," he said trying to convince his parents. "Let him go, otherwise he shall blame us for not being flexible parents. One of my colleague's older daughter studied in Bangalore, talk with her. She is help you navigate your way through the city," he said through the noise his phone was making while watching news.

"Navigation! Navigation!" echoed in his head. He was brought to present by Chandrika. "Bro, did you just zone out while I talking to you?" she asked. "No, no, I was remembering the items I shall take to home," he lied. "Oh, okay," she said unsatisfied with his answer. She opened her phone and scrolled her social media. While he resumed packing.

"Look what I found," she sat up suddenly. It was the photograph of their orientation program. "I vividly remember you relocating to the balcony post lunch and taking photographs of the almost empty hall," she recounted. "And you asked me to forward them to you so that you could make a transition," he said. "Of course, my parents were like he is your classmate, you must take his number. I felt awkward so I asked you to forward me the photographs," she revealed.

"Really? I was just capturing the emptiness of my heart that reflected in the auditorium. My parents left early without attending the function and I was looking at students that came with theirs."

"Forget that day, remember the times we used to hang out after class? Coming back to an empty apartment was no good so I used to stay. You too used to study initially," she said trying to cheer him up. "I used to; now I cannot sit in front of my books for longer than 10 minutes," he laughed sarcastically.

"But didn't that deepen our friendship. Had you left early, would I be sitting here talking to you?"

"Do you remember our first trip together. For an assignment?"

"I still curse that moment I chose to be your partner. Not one of my best decision."

"I was not into the course that time. Why don't you talk about our recent project together, that landed us in the job?"

"True that, we learned our compatibility through these trial and error." she said and lied down on his bed. He lied beside him. "Honestly, I never felt good about myself. Self-policing through my way in life, defining anything against the parents being wrong and unable to take a decision for my future. You know, I took a trip down memory lane and all I can remember is the how my parents defined happiness for me, how they thought taking my own decision was them giving freedom to me and how they felt about me navigating on my own through the sea of life. Whatever I achieve, I shall never reach upto their mark. I do not want to end up despising them for not being supportive," he said and broke down.

It took him an hour to revert back to his state. Chandrika took Olie to her apartment and waited patiently. A soft knock was heard outside her door. "Are you okay now?" she asked him gently. He nodded. "Should I help you the packing?" she asked holding his hand. He nodded. They went back to his apartment and arranged his bags. She ordered dinner and went to feed Olie.

"You remember that day we sat on a bench and you pointed me out that the canopy looked like a brain," she reminiscent when she turned with food.

"Yes."

"I assume human mind is just like that. Always towards the sky, trying to canopy over everything. Our parents' brains are like that; they always try to shade us from the harsh aspect of life. Maybe their actions does not justified their affection for us as their brain is modelled to think about the higher potential we posses. They have seen the sky a.k.a the world more than us thus wanting to protect it from us."

"Your interpretation does make sense."

"Next, remember the bus stand where we exchanged buses to and fro."

"Yes."

"Well it's our brain. A station of countless ideas coming back and forth carrying enormous potentials with them. They take us to a destination, whatever route they might take. We have to take that bus which leaves us in our correct destination. One wrong bus and we shall never reach the place."

"You sound like a saint. Maybe you should catch that bus for your destination."

"I shall for sure, let me do this tast first."

"Last but not the least, do your remember the trees in the park. Each had a plantation number attached to it?"

"Yup"

"Now these again represent us. We are brought to the world as a seed. As soon as we turn into sapling, we are given a number and raised according to our requirements. A little up and down on this can lead to perish of the tree. To the passerbys all look the same, but it's a professional or a plant lover that cherish that individuality of the tree. Similarly, we are raised under different circumstances which affects our perception of life. Our problems might fall under the same catagory and making to look normal to an onlookers. But at times, we should consult a professional who can help us deal with our problems instead of suppressing it."

Pratham nodded in agreement. It was the time he become vocal about what he felt. His parents were not his enemy. He had to convince them and pour his heart. Afterall they love him unconditionally. His mind was at peace.

"Knock my door before you leave tomorrow. Don't worry everything is going to be fine, " said Chandrika hugging him.

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