Tags:
Journalism of Courage
So what is it that you want to be when you grow up? Every time I hear this question tossed at one of my young cousins, it8217;s deja vu time. Time to think of the many choices tossed at every young hopeful. Do you want to be a doctor 8212; such a noble profession, saving people8217;s lives I can almost see mom nodding approval, that8217;s the way to go. Or will you choose to go the MBA way IIM, dad8217;s spelling it out, loud and clear. Computer engineer the latest rage? Chartered accountant you8217;ll be minting so much money, you8217;ll be hard-pressed to count the green stuff. Or an air-hostess well, it8217;s true, you8217;re a tad too short. Confronted with so many choices, I had just one question: why do I have to plump for one?
My query seemed valid, at least to me. For everything seemed to cast a shadow of the 8216;8216;influential kind8217;8217; on my mind. When I read Indrajal8217;s Phantom comics, I actually wanted to be a female crimebuster. And in my eagerness to walk in the footsteps of the Ghost Who Walks, I had even planned how 8216;8216;my8217;8217; skull ring remember the one with which he leaves his mark on the baddies would look. Then came the stage of wanting to upstage 8212; doing something that would draw attention like nothing else. What, how, that bit wasn8217;t clear. When I heard of Amelia Earhart, how she flew high and how she mysteriously disappeared, flying was all I could think of. You had to admit, the romance in her tale was irresistible.
Today, I strongly believe that inside of every person is a whole lot of persons. Call it multiple personalities if you may, but that8217;s the way it is. After all, many parts come together to make up a whole. So one day, there8217;s a director in me, wanting to create on celluloid. The next day, I want to script a play. Yet another day, I want to just be. The last of the week sees me wanting to travel. Smell the flowers, skip along the road as I walk, squint at the rising sun, laugh merrily at the silliest of things.
After all, the whole world8217;s a playground, isn8217;t it time to play?
I realise one thing. That whoever said 8216;Jack of all trades and master of none8217; didn8217;t have a clue what he was talking about. For isn8217;t it better to be a whole comprised of so many parts rather than just a part?
