Three Mistakes Of My Life(Chetan Bhagat) - Chapter 12:The IIT dream of my Mom
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- Chapter 12:The IIT dream of my Mom
She left the room. My mother knew it was futile arguing with me. Without dad around, it was amazing how much say I had in the house. And I only hoped Ish and Omi would listen to my proposition as well.
My love for business began when I first started tuitions. It was amazing to see money build up. With money came not only things like coolers and sofas but also the most important stuff – respect. Shopkeepers no longer avoided us, relatives re-invited us to weddings and our landlord’s visit did not throw us into turmoil. And then there was the thrill – I was making money, not earning it under some boss or getting a handout. I could decide my fate, how many students to teach, how many hours per class – it was my decision.
There is something about Gujaratis, we love business. And Ambadadis love it more than anything else. Gujarat is the only state in India where people tend to respect you more if you have a business than if you are in service. The rest of the country dreams about a cushy job that gives a steady salary and provides stability. In Ahmedabad, service is for the weak. That was why I dreamt my biggest dream to be a big businessman one day. The only hitch was my lack of capital. But I would build it slowly and make my dream come true. Sure, Ish could not make his dream of being in the Indian cricket team real, but that was a stupid dream to begin with. To be in the top eleven of a country of a billion people was in many ways an impossible dream, and even though Ish was top class in Belrampur, he was no Tendulkar. My dream was more realistic, I would start slow and then grow my business. From a turnover of thousands, to lakhs, to crores and then to hundreds of crores.
I came out of the shower and dressed again.
“Want to eat anything?’ my mother voiced her most quoted line from the kitchen.
‘No, I am going out with Ish and Omi to Gopi.’
‘Gopi? Why? I make the same things. What do you get at Gopi that I can’t give you at home?’
Peace and quiet, I wanted to say.
‘It’s Ish’s treat. And I want to talk to them about my new business.’
‘So you are not repeating the engineering entrance,’ my mother came out of the kitchen. She raised dough-covered hands, ‘You can take a year to prepare. Stop taking tuitions for a while, we have money now.’
My mother felt guilty about a million things. One of them was me not making it to a good engineering college. Tuitions and supporting my mom’s business meant I could study less for the entrance exams. I didn’t make it to IIT or any of the top institutes.
I did make it to a far-flung college in Kutch, but it wasn’t worth it to leave my tuition income, friends, cricket at Nana Park and mom for that. Not that I felt any emotion, it just did not seem like the right trade. I could do maths honours right here in Amdavad University, continue tuitions and think about business. The Kutch college did not even guarantee a job.
‘I don’t want to be an engineer, mom. My heart is in business. Plus, I have already done two years of college. One more and I will be a graduate.’
‘Yes, but who gives a job to a maths graduate?’
It was true. Maths honours was a stupid course to take from an economic point of view.
‘It is ok. I needed a degree and I can get it without studying much,’ I said. ‘I am a businessman, mom. I can’t change that.’
My mother pulled my cheeks. Chunks of dough stuck to my face.
‘Be whatever. You are always my son first.’ She hugged me. I hated it. I hate a display of emotion more than emotion itself. ‘I better go.’