Pritam's Blog
The Metamorphosis
One lazy afternoon during my last semester in college, we were all chilling in the college canteen over samosas and coffee, wondering out loud how life would be after a few months.
Some were sad that we won’t see each other every day. Others were worried about the uncertainty of future. None of us were placed anywhere yet.
One of the guys, to lift up our mood, started mimicking what each of us would be doing two years down the line.
“Pritam would be found in front of the Town Hall,” he said when came my turn. “Placard in his hand, yelling at the top of his voice. He would become a full-time activist.”
Every one, including myself, laughed.
Three years later, when I look at myself and think of that day, I cannot help but get amazed by how time has changed me.
What a different person I was back in those days - always updated on development (or the lack of it) in political discourse of the days, highly opinionated, always ready to get into a debate, even confrontation, on socio-political issues. My juniors used to call me anti-establishment.
While other students in my batch were sending their resumes to PR firms and advertising agencies, my teachers, especially, the Marx reading Jesuit priests, were sure that I would become a journalist, one who would ask difficult questions to corrupt bureaucrats and politicians. They were happy with me and had a lot of expectations from me.
And why wouldn’t they? Didn’t I quit my secure engineering career to pursue my dream course of Journalism and Mass Communication because my heart beat for writing? Didn’t I leave my family behind for they never supported my decision to quit engineering? And to be honest, I also felt that I owe it to St Joseph’s College and my teachers over there, not at the expense of my wishes though; I was done with that.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t bag a job in the news media. I was too egoistic to look for a job in other fields. At the same time, I was desperate for a job.
It was my mentor again who came to my rescue. Back in 2015, after I left my engineering career and the entire world seemed to be conspiring against me, it was he (and Asma di - Ava NAva) who helped me get into my dream course in my dream college. He understood my dilemma and he said, “Don’t worry about what I might think. Don’t worry about your teachers. Nobody will understand what it is like to live your life… You cannot change the world with an empty stomach. You need a job right now. And nothing else matters.”
And he referred me to Embibe. “Write about education. It’s better than writing about fashion…”
I took up the content marketing job. I thought it would be something temporary and that I would quit it the moment I get a job in some news organisation.
Although I didn’t expect it, eventually I started enjoying it, probably because the job demands, among other things, writing.
Since it was entirely different than the kind of writing I was used to, I realised there were ample opportunities to learn, experiment, and tell stories at the same time. This piqued my interest and I started spending more time at work.
I am doing well. I have grown. I have complete freedom at work and since it is an AI-powered edu-tech, fortunately, I never had to compromise with my core beliefs and principles.
I am not only at peace with my profession, I am happy and proud too.
So, do I regret my metamorphosis, my transition from activism to marketing? Do I feel bad about being a disappointment to the people who gave so much of their time and energy to me, dealt with my mood swings during the worst two years of my life?
Nope.
What matters in the end is whether or not you have been a disappointment to yourself. I have learned it the hard way.
It feels great when at the end of a hectic day I see myself in the mirror and I do not feel uncomfortable.
In these three years, I haven’t been to the campus even once. I haven’t been in touch with my teachers. But that has nothing to do with my metamorphosis. I have always tried to move on with my life when a certain phase is over. I tried to do the same when I passed out of SJC. But I guess it’s not that easy. I still miss my college. They say, ‘Once a Josephite, always a Josephite.’ I understand the sentiment behind it.
For the past one week, my Facebook memories have been showing all those posts from five years back - how desperate I was to do my Masters and how happy I felt to get into SJC. Thought of writing this. I owe an explanation to myself and to some of the most important people in my life.