14^th Jan

Yesterday I had taken a resolution to study 8 hrs a day at least for a week. I was determined to be well prepared before facing EG again. Actually, I had a soft corner for her. Everybody calls her evil but I always respected her vast knowledge. I thought she doesn’t deserve to be hated like this. But yesterday had shown me why everyone, even daredevil third years are scared of her.

  Alas! A parcel shattered my resolution. Shan had gone to Bombay and sent me beautiful chiffon sari from there. Half the day was spent in admiring that sari and planning a gorgeous blouse to go with it.  The remaining two hours was just enough for a cursory glance of the old physics notes but not in-depth study. There is a strong possibility that I will forget every word of it before the next class. It would have been more practical if I read it just before the class like everybody does! But I am not renowned for practical attitude.

 Some of my classmates are always busy -solving quizzes for Joint entrance. They want to join either medical or engineering and enrolled for coaching. Not that I  am  passionate about the intricacies of machine but I like the sound of the word “Engineer.”  Joining a stream that is dominated by men has a hidden challenge. It seems to be the in thing now for modern girls. A picture of a girl casually dressed in jeans and T-shirt,  working on a machine undoubtedly arouses respect. But to achieve entry into that elite group is not a simple job.  But Dad’s lukewarm attitude has saved me the trouble of going all out for it.  I have filled up the form but not enrolled for any coaching.

 Dad is not really enthusiastic to see an engineer daughter. If I fail which I definitely will without the benefit of coaching class and rigorous preparation, I can safely blame it on Dad. In fact, though I find the title of engineer interesting, I don’t have any interest in studies. Always a mediocre I know my limitations. But why should Dad not want his daughter to be a workingwoman?  Is he sure I won’t clear the test even if I try hard? May be he knows. But sometimes I think that he wants his daughter just to be a fashion doll.   Someone --whose exterior would be wrapped in modernity but at core who would remain an ever dependent hapless lass. Once she grows up Dad will find her a sturdy post. The  boat of her life will be safely anchored to that post; even an emotional blizzard will not  lead it  to any  unknown direction .

 As I write this I know may be  Dad never thought like this. But still sometimes, I can’t help feeling these unpalatable thoughts. God knows why? I know I love my Dad. May be, I love him the best. But Do I love him unconditionally?

DiptiDi, my Bengali teacher in school while teaching vaishnab padabali had once told  me “In the material world, love is always  conditional. Even a minute part of the great paternal love is tainted   by self –love.” Once the self-interest is denied it turns to hatred. Is there a bit of hatred mixed in my love for Dad?