When I Grow Up...

I want to be happy?

When I was a kid, some adult asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up.

“A teacher”, I replied.

That happened maybe thirty years ago.

I still have random aunties and uncles who - when I see them at the annual Deepavali party - ask me “I thought you wanted to be a teacher. What happened to that plan?”

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I’m pretty sure I had also answered that question by saying I wanted to be a cupcake / butterfly / tree / astronut (I couldn’t spell astronaut) / diplodocus… yet nobody ever asked me what happened to those plans.

In their minds, my child-self fit nicely into the role of ‘teacher’ that they imagined for me. They deemed it an acceptable aspiration for a young Indian girl - a respectable, noble profession, nothing too dramatic, nothing too “out there”.

And so, thirty years on, these people still ask me about my “plan” to become a teacher.

Me as a 5 year old kid all ready to go to a Deepavali party - pretty sure I wanted to be a Disney princess at this point.