Young & Free

Years ago; in another age now that I look back at it, I had a stupid dream. A dream fueled by adolescent enthusiasm and the conviction that you can only afford when you’re young and free. I was 16 and had only just begun writing, spurred on by a rather inconspicuous quote by the wildly celebrated Professor Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore. The quote went thus: Words, in my not so humble opinion, are our most inexhaustible source of magic. The dream went thus:  To become a best-selling author before I graduate from College, to feature on the cover of HT Brunch and, to be a multimillionaire author before I turned 24. 

I dreamt big. And I had the conviction to do it. At the age of 16, I had my priorities sorted enough to sign a three book deal with a leading publishing house. At the age of 21, I was lucky enough to get a chance to feature on Brunch. I was young, full of ideas and a misplaced sense of superstardom. I was writing like a dream; the words flowed like magic. You see, I have always been incredibly vain when it comes to my ability with words. In my defense, I was getting everything I wanted; no matter how incredulous. And I was egged on by this belief that maybe I was God’s favorite child, with this supreme conviction that when you want something from the deepest recess of your heart, the Universe, with all its unfathomable power, will come together to make it happen for you. 

Incredibly naïve; incredibly stupid, don’t you think? But I was getting all of it. And more. I was going to LitFests and Book Fairs. I was signing books. I was inspiring people to write. I was giving interviews. Doordarshan made a short documentary on me. I had it all. I was, and I am, in a way, famous.

But all of this was before the pressure of the real word caught up with me. Before I was caught in the mad frenzy of being successful and safely placed somewhere when I graduated from college. Before I started fretting more about the next internship I could fix and how it would look on the CV rather than worry about the fate of Arya and Sealand. Before not falling behind others became more important than finishing the next project I wanted to work on. 

And so here I’m, three months and thirty days shy of turning 24, pouring over hundreds upon hundreds of pages of acts and rules looking for an obscure section that might help my case; working a 10-10 job and going back home with nothing other than 7 hours of sleep and the pending deadlines on my mind; my parents casually commenting on how I’m never really present at home despite living with them; the dreams and ambition for my 16 year old self all but forgotten. 

And it gets me thinking. How often does it happen that we are so intimidated by the idea of making something for ourselves when we graduate from college that we forget the things we used to love at one point of time? How passions take the form of hobbies as we settle into a life governed by billable hours and the clock, and masterpieces that we could have created consigned to little notes on the margins, that tune in our head, or random scribbles and doodles on the back of a note-book? It doesn’t happen with all of us. There are people who rebel against the established order and go out there and achieve their dreams; but for every two who do, there are hundreds who live with the knowledge that it could have been so different if they had the courage to strive for the unconventional. A happier life, if not more comfortable and settled than the ones who probably have? 

Because somewhere in the struggle to land up something big, we forget that once, years ago, there was this one talent we all had that could have put others to shame. The 23 year old me is striving hard to get that perfect job that would make sure that not only am I making money, but I also have the time to spend all of it in ways I’ve always imagined; hardly having written anything new in over two years. 

But the 16 year old in me still wants that Literary Superstardom that would rival the kind of success Rajesh Khanna had at his peak, still there, somewhere, afraid to over-power the practicality in me. But I think that is what makes the successful people successful; the ability to throw caution to wind and take risks when you have a more comfortable alternative.

Someone once said, “Find what you love and stay close to it.” Writing this, that’s all I can ponder about.