How to learn to believe
Today, we are going to talk about a gift that very few of us acknowledge, let alone understand. Not many readers of this peerless blog know that I used to be an engineering student, barely few semesters away from turning into an engineering graduate, and a few months away from pulling my family out of poverty, via the deeply fulfilling world of Bangalore/Hyderabad/Pune-based IT giants. Of course, this didn’t unfold as per my amma’s wishes as I dropped out and chose a slightly different path.
For the record, I quit college in 2007, took up a job as a transcriber for American clients (5-day-work), before earning graduation in English Lit and postgraduation in Journalism. During this phase (2007-11), I went back to the slum I grew up in and taught high school students English. It was a very enriching stint—can’t possibly be compared to any other professional highs. It’s one thing to have a job and quite another to be super-excited about doing it. I don’t remember an instance when I didn’t feel like going for my assigned lectures. In fact, I was perhaps the only teaching staff member who never missed a class, never took a leave either. But then, all good things come to an abrupt pause.
I eventually quit teaching a few months after joining journalism. The reason for doing so was purely technical. As a journalist at mid-day, I worked 6 days a week (Sunday used to be an off) but it felt like the whole week was gone into paper. There were only three holidays in a calendar year (last day of Ganeshotsav, independence day and Bhai Dooj). Again, the pay was measly but being an idiot, I didn’t care much about money and focused more on improving my writing/grasping skills.
To my credit, I started as a trainee sub-editor, before stepping out into the world of entertainment. It’s no exaggeration that Mumbai is/was the entertainment capital of India. By the second year of my stint, I had already interviewed popular film stars, directors, writers, lyricists, musicians, artists, and so on. Obviously, my most famous interview happened with Shah Rukh Khan at Mannat although I am equally proud of peeing with Ang Lee.
Less than four years later, I had already quit journalism, moved base to Gurgaon to write for Deepinder Goyal of Zomato. Spent six summers there, learned a lot under him, grew a lot too, understood so many nuances that Mumbai didn’t facilitate, cultivated friends that are still friends and not just ex-colleagues. Best career decision ever.
Yet, in the middle of the pandemic, I moved to Mangalore, without a solid plan in sight. Long story short, this is my fifth year in a rather tiny humble city. Remote is my middle name now.
In all these years, I’ve often wondered what is it that drives us. Or should I say, drives me? Why do we do what we do? Initially, I thought the answer was validation. It spurs us to do our finest work, to push ourselves to unchartered terrains of thoughts and actions. Of late, I’ve arrived at an alternative conclusion: the crux of human existence is belief. To believe is to enable life to its widest form. When we believe, we make things happen. If you don’t believe in something, it doesn’t exist for you.
Let me tell you why I’ve started thinking so.
Every year, since 2007, an ex-student of mine wishes me ‘Happy Teacher’s Day’ on WhatsApp/Instagram without fail on September 5. It’s been a long-held tradition of hers. During my teaching days, I encountered hundreds of students, across a coaching class and three local schools, but only one student feels the need to remind me that I was a teacher once upon a time. Statistically speaking, isn’t that something?
I once asked her the reason why this is so and she said, “…you were my favourite teacher, who believed in me. I don't think, at that point, anybody else believed in me much as a student...”
Turns out believing in others is a gift that not everybody receives in their lifetime. If you haven’t received it yet, perhaps it’s time you gifted it to others.
Beautifully penned down