I have totally lost track of the fast moving society, its aims, achievements and ambitions after my retirement. Emerging off-beat areas of specialisation have replaced older areas of technology with which I am familiar. And some of the conventional areas that were looked down upon during my days of active service, have now emerged as glorified areas laying golden eggs in spite of the global downward trend. If change is the law of nature, it has not been more strongly manifested in any area other than in the mindset of the younger generation that keep evolving everyday leaving yesterday way behind.
Yet the pride in my gene forced me to accept the challenge of offering career guidance to my grandson when he inadvertently sought my advice. This I did oblivious of the pitfalls in my un-trodden pitch where youngsters are better informed and have fared better.
When I suggested a career in basic engineering subjects like electrical engineering and mechanical engineering, my grandson looked at me with such a stupefied astonishment and utter disdain which we normally reserve for those who have never heard of mobile phones, i-pods and such other gizmos. Realisation came to me rather late that these were the old fashioned fields opted by my elders to escape from once cherished civil engineering, basic sciences and arts. I instantly realised that I should have suggested lines like electronics and telecommunication, information technology or computer sciences and instantly corrected my suggestion to impress upon the growing mind, but still failed miserably in my attempt. “Gran,” said the lad, “in which world do you exist? I am not interested in such old and hopeless fields. I want a career that opens the door to a life of action and affluence.” If the kid had the chance to look at my passbook that I meticulously up-date every month, I am sure he would have kept a safe distance and avoided consulting me.
I still kept my chin up valiantly and said, “Oh! Money. Money is your goal. Well boy, money it is. Go for finance, finance management. Go for commerce, followed by FCA, CA or ICWA or is it ICMA now – M for management.” I gave a majestic look expecting a great deal of admiration, but my pride was short lived.
My grandson looked at me with scant respect and said, “How ignorant you are, thaththa.” The boy, totally disillusioned, left me unceremoniously to my great relief.
It was about a week later that I was returning after a short trip out of town and I was feeling rather uneasy at the prospect of another episode with my grandson.
I was stunned to see a huge crowd collected in front of our house and being worried I hastened my steps. Everyone in the crowd was vying with others to gain entry into the foyer of the house. Puzzled as I was, I looked up and stunned to see a freshly painted sign board which read: “ RAHUL COACHING CLASSES FOR COMMON KG ADMISSION TEST (C-KAT) ”
I searched my trouser pocket for my handkerchief and instead got a crumpled sheet of that day’s date sheet of ‘Rani Mutthu’ daily tear off which I had inadvertently put in my pocket. It showed the date as April 1, 2029.