It’s time for dinner, and we were waiting for my dad. As I was addicted to television, I didn’t realize my dad had arrived. He stepped into the house, sat on the chair, and removed his black shoes.
He looked at me and said, “Sarath, have you done your homework?” Before he could finish the question, a voice entered the hall from the kitchen. My house had only two rooms, not much distance between them—just a wall enclosed it. “No, he hasn’t even touched his books. He’s been watching TV the whole time,” added my mom.
My dad felt sad. He looked at me and said, “If it goes on like this, what are you going to be? What’s your aim?” He waited for my reply.
It was a difficult question for a five-year-old to answer. At that moment, I was watching the film Air Force One on the Star Movies channel. I turned to my father and said, “Dad, I want to be a driver.”
His face turned red, and his eyebrows lifted up. Without a moment’s pause, his hand searched for a stick so he could teach me a lesson. With a flushed face, he continued, “You poor guy! Your dad is working as a cashier in a bank—why can’t you be a manager at least? Aim higher, Sarath. It’s your life. No one can imagine like you do, but how can you aim so low?” he muttered.
“No, Dad. I want to drive an aeroplane, like him,” I said, pointing at the pilot in the movie, who was struggling to keep the aircraft in cruise during a hijack.
Dad’s angry face softened and turned into a smile. As his office was far away, he returned home late and tired every day. But now he smiled like the happiest person in the world.
He said, “Sarath, you want to drive an aeroplane? No one calls the person who drives an aeroplane a driver. He is called a pilot. So now, you want to be a pilot?”
“Yes, Dad,” I muttered.
“Good,” he said, congratulating me.
Every evening, when my dad entered the hall, he would ask me, “What are you going to be?”
I always answered, “Pilot.”
Whenever he saw an aeroplane on television, he asked the same question, and I gave the same answer.
Two years later,
At the age of 7, I was going for tuition with my cousin Nageshwar, my childhood friend of the same age.
He asked, “Sarath, I’m going to be a doctor. What are you going to be, da?”
I replied, “I want to be a scientist, da.”
With a bored face, he said, “Eeh! You? All scientists are 60-plus. So you’ll also be a scientist at 60. Leave it, da.”
With slight hesitation, I replied, “No, I’ll be a scientist at 20. I will be, da.” He smiled.
When I was in 7th standard, our chemistry teacher asked everyone to say their aim. I stood up and said, “Pilot, miss.”
“Nice to hear that, Sarath,” she said. “But to become that, you need to study aeronautical engineering.”
Till I turned 18, many people suggested different paths—computer engineering, IAS (though it’s not a course, my grandma told me to take it), and nanotechnology.
My dad didn’t discuss anything with me, because he already knew what I was going to be.
It was time for counselling.
I went with Dad to Chennai by train. We reached the Anna University campus. I had breakfast at the canteen. Lots of students like me were waiting for their future to be decided.
Inside a long, wide hall, two projectors were fixed on the left and right of the stage. They displayed the vacant seats in government-aided colleges with department codes: AERO, MECH, EC, EEE, IT, CSC.
Some neighbors had brainwashed my mom, suggesting I join a nearby college. She told me before I left for Chennai, “You should take EC in Eshwar College,” since I had done a short training course there during a summer camp. We had even paid a management fee of ₹40,000 for that college.
As we moved in the queue, my eyes carefully watched the projector. But I couldn’t spot Eshwar College—too risky to look for one college out of 450 in Tamil Nadu. Suddenly, one college name blinked repeatedly, showing a single vacant seat in the AERO department. It was Nehru College, listed above the table.
My dad looked at me and said, “Sarath, do you see that? There’s an opportunity in the aero department.”
With fear, I replied, “No, Dad. Mom asked me to take EC and nothing else.”
“Oh God, it’s your wish, son.”
Once again, Dad asked me, “What are you going to be?”
My lips trembled, but finally, I said, “Aeronautical engineer.”
“Then go ahead with it, Sarath. Why are you afraid to take it?”
“I’m interested in it, Dad,” I murmured in his ear. “But Mom asked me to take ECE.”
“It’s your future, son. Go ahead with what you want to be,” he encouraged me.
I borrowed a counselling book from the guy next to me and searched for Nehru College’s code. I found it: “……”
Several senior engineering students were waiting at separate PCs to help. We moved toward a fat lady with an orange tag ID. She asked for the code. Within a fraction of a second, I got a seat in the respective college.
We came out of the campus with a happy smile on our faces and hearts.
Hello guys—within four years, I’ll be an aeronautical engineer. I’m searching for a path where no footprints are found. I want to discover it, to earn honor and live the adventurous life I love.
