Vague future or World's Smallest Violin
I’ve always been a lost soul — and a proud chatterbox.
From 1st to 10th standard, every teacher seemed to dislike just one thing about me: my mouth. I love words. I love expressing myself. Talking was never just talking for me; it was breathing. But somewhere along the way, that gift became my biggest distraction.
I’ve always been that person — the one who says “no” without listening till the end, the one who lives with earphones plugged in 24/7, the one who ignores advice even when it’s meant for my future… and then wonders why life feels confusing later.
Did I make my life vague myself?
Maybe. Probably.
This question has haunted me since I was a child. It still does. It’s not like I don’t have dreams — I do. Plenty of them. But growing up as an Asian child means your dreams come with terms and conditions. Approval from family. Approval from society. Approval from neighbours who somehow always know what’s best for your life. So let me take you back, maybe then you’ll understand me better.
In 1st standard, whenever someone asked me about my future, my answer was always confident:
“Chef.”
Why? Because little me was obsessed with MasterChef. The flying vegetables, the flipping taco breads, the flaming pans, and of course — Gordon Ramsay (yes, I knew him since Senior KG; the bad words were beeped). I held onto that dream till 2nd standard.
Then — plot twist. My mom bought a few encyclopedias for our home library. I loved reading, and suddenly I fell in love with space. Black holes. Stars. The unknown. And just like that, I became an Astronaut.
I change career choices the way people change clothes — quickly and without warning.
By the time I reached 7th standard, I had poured my heart into Maths and Science. I was doing well — too well — without even trying hard. And that’s when things got complicated.
I was decent at everything: Piano, Sports, Dance, and Drawing
Name it, I probably tried it. Except fashion sense and looks — but honestly, who has that figured out in 7th standard anyway? Being good at many things feels like a blessing, but no one tells you how confusing it can be. When you can do everything a little, choosing one thing feels impossible. And now being good at nothing does really hit rock hard.
Now comes the confession. We listen, and we don’t judge.
During a school assembly in December or January, the newsreader talked about how COVID-19 could turn into a pandemic. I remember quietly thinking to myself:
“I’ve always wanted to see a pandemic.”
Well… wish granted. We all know what happened next. Loss. Fear. Isolation. Trauma. I got COVID too.
Sadly — I’m alive.
And yes, I say that with dark humour, because sometimes that’s the only way I know how to cope.
After COVID settled down, reality hit hard. It was my 10th standard. I had lost touch with studies. Everything felt heavy. I passed — but not with the marks I had dreamed of. So naturally… I picked a new dream. Doctor.
I even went to take admission for NEET.
And then I panicked. I begged my parents for a normal college life. No pressure. No race. No constant competition. They agreed. Those days were fun. Happy. Alive.
But if we’re being honest, they weren’t the smartest investment for my future.
Now you see why I call it a vague future, right?
Today, I’m doing something I actually love. I’m happy — mostly because of a few beautiful friends who make life lighter. My future doesn’t feel as vague as it once did. But I can’t help wondering:
What if I had figured it out earlier?
What if I had just stuck to one dream?
Maybe life would’ve been easier. But maybe… it wouldn’t have been me. I would have never discovered things like Bunk, Cheap Food, triple seat rides, etc.
It’s not about choosing the hardest course or the easiest one. Education shapes your future — so at least be honest with yourself about it.
I stayed strong and somehow stepped out of the fog. But what about you?
Be gorgeous in every field you step into.
Chase what feels right — not what sounds respectable.
And yes… don’t always listen to your parents when it comes to career choices.
Sometimes, the messiest paths make the most meaningful stories. This wasn’t exactly a storytelling blog, but I tried. Maybe I’ll get better soon. Or am I better now the way I am?
Until then
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