The quintessential and pressing question that every child is prey
to- “What do you want to be once you grow up?” changed shades as
my personality did growing up. Many might respond with
perplexed expressions but I always had an answer at my disposal.
Right in the beginning, my naive brain convinced me that I am
destined to be an astronaut, owing to the fact that the moon
refuses to leave me alone and follows me wherever I travel.
A melange of professions like librarians, scientists, cashiers
crossed my head everyday as the tiny joys that came with them
overruled everything else. “Getting paid and having an unlimited
supply to candy or books at my disposal? Count me in.” were the
exact words I told myself. The second phase started when a young
and refined woman welcomed me with a grin stretching from ear
to ear. The pure joy she exhibited while doing any job led me to
believe that air hostesses are the happiest women in the world.
What else can you be when you are paid to travel? Unfortunately,
the restless butterflies in my stomach as the plane danced within
the clouds warned me against this idea as I retched my way
through the turbulent flight to Europe.
By this time, I was (somewhat) acquainted to my interests
and about ten percent of my personality which led me to decide
that I wanted to be a writer. Sitting in the corner of my room,
penning down the whirlpool of thoughts that brewed in my head
everyday, putting into action the storm that lived inside of me
satisfied my brain which was brimming with ideas. My words were
my safe space, my happy space, a place I didn’t mind spending the
rest of my life in. I chose to believe that my reasons to becoming a
writer were more mature, that I was more mature, but it was not
too long before the real world popped the tiny bubble I was hiding
in.
The news channels and social media activists were a harsh
wake up call for me this time, constantly talking about the dark
deeds done by humans, which made me want to learn the reason
we do things, our motivation. Why does this happen to me and why
do I do this in return? My existentialist dilemma combined with
my obsession with the butterfly effect and a little bit of Freud’s
provocative theories brewed my passion for Psychology. After
hearing the number of irrational actions done by humans,
understanding the psyche of these insane creatures was something
that fascinated me.
Although this has kept me absorbed for quite
some time now, Psychology again might just be today’s daily (or
rather yearly) dose of entertainment. Who knows? My perpetual
attempts to comprehend my mind’s desires and expectations might
fail, as usual.
As they say “We humans are full of unpredictable
emotions that logic alone cannot solve”.
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