Many of my friends are preparing to appear for an exam called JEE, an incredibly competitive qualifying exam for getting admission in the Indian Institutes of Technology (IITs). From what I've heard/seen/read, saying preparing for it is hard would be a gross understatement; it is absolutely brutal.
I read an article by a person currently studying at IIT titled 'I sacrificed my health and teenage years to study at the IITs--but was it worth it?' And it shocked me. Here I was thinking I knew what went into the preparations for IIT ("sacrifice and hard work") but just how much sacrifice was required was staggering. My respect for all these aspirants increased exponentially but beside this, there was one more visceral reaction that the article evoked which, frankly, I'm not proud of--pity.
There is a line in The Fountainhead about a major character, Peter Keating who was a brilliant scholar, and a charismatic leader. I did not understand the line's significance until very recently. But there was something so haunting about this line, like the feeling you'd get on looking into the mirror and finding something horrible looking back at you, that I kept repeating it in my mind.
"And then Peter Keating fell love for mankind."
The sentiment was not philanthropy or love or humanism; it was pity. Because Peter Keating was better than the rest of mankind. Because I'm better than my friends who study for JEE. Because things are black and white and there are no shades in between.
I hate this feeling. It haunts me every day. Every time the subject of IIT comes up and I begin preaching why they are better than this, why they don't need to do this. Why they should strive to be me. I have failed to understand why I feel this way; I have failed to understand how someone can give up everything to chase a dream that is not even theirs to begin with. Just because.
I ask them constantly, why are you doing this to yourself? Is this really what you want to do? Why don't you try out some other options? I do this maybe because this choice of theirs baffles me so much so that I can't help think no one sane would choose this way. I don't know. Maybe there's something more than studying in an IIT that motivates them, maybe it's how happy their parents will be, or how good their life will be 'after-IIT', I really don't know. But there has to be something to rationalise this, because otherwise it would just be plain pointless and insane.
When I was thinking about this today, I was reminded of a poem I had read some time ago. I'd like to share its first three lines:
There is a line in The Fountainhead about a major character, Peter Keating who was a brilliant scholar, and a charismatic leader. I did not understand the line's significance until very recently. But there was something so haunting about this line, like the feeling you'd get on looking into the mirror and finding something horrible looking back at you, that I kept repeating it in my mind.
"And then Peter Keating fell love for mankind."
The sentiment was not philanthropy or love or humanism; it was pity. Because Peter Keating was better than the rest of mankind. Because I'm better than my friends who study for JEE. Because things are black and white and there are no shades in between.
I hate this feeling. It haunts me every day. Every time the subject of IIT comes up and I begin preaching why they are better than this, why they don't need to do this. Why they should strive to be me. I have failed to understand why I feel this way; I have failed to understand how someone can give up everything to chase a dream that is not even theirs to begin with. Just because.
I ask them constantly, why are you doing this to yourself? Is this really what you want to do? Why don't you try out some other options? I do this maybe because this choice of theirs baffles me so much so that I can't help think no one sane would choose this way. I don't know. Maybe there's something more than studying in an IIT that motivates them, maybe it's how happy their parents will be, or how good their life will be 'after-IIT', I really don't know. But there has to be something to rationalise this, because otherwise it would just be plain pointless and insane.
When I was thinking about this today, I was reminded of a poem I had read some time ago. I'd like to share its first three lines:
"I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night..."
