B.Ed: The Great Parental Conspiracy
If someone had told me that I’d end up pursuing a B.Ed
after my post-graduation, I would’ve laughed it off. “Me? A teacher? No way!”
After all, I had placement offers pouring in like rain during the monsoon, just
not enough to drown in. My mind was set on starting my career. But little did I
know, my parents had cooked up a master plan to dash my corporate dreams and
thrust me into the world of chalk, lesson plans, and disciplining teenagers.
It started subtly, as these things often do. “Teaching
is such a noble profession,” my mom would say casually while handing me a
kitchen task. My dad would agree with his expert analysis: “A 9-to-4 job is
perfect for work-life balance. And think about all those vacations! What other
career gives you so much time off?” Slowly but surely, their little remarks
snowballed into full-blown parental pressure tactics.
“But I have job offers!” I argued. “I can start
working right away!”
“Job offers are always there, but they don’t have grantee. God knows when the
next pandemic will come” my mom countered, “but teaching is a respectable job.
Everyone admires teachers. And you’ll have time for yourself!”
Time for myself? Freedom? That’s all I wanted! So,
after weeks of lectures and tag-team arguments, I finally gave in. “Okay,
fine,” I sighed. “I’ll do B.Ed. But on one condition—I’ll study at a college
far away from home. Maybe even out of Kerala!”
Now, here’s the thing: my insistence on studying far
away wasn’t just about getting a good education. No, it was about freedom.
Sweet, elusive freedom. From my school days to my post-graduation, I had spent
my entire life under my parents’ watchful eyes. Every day was the same: wake
up, go to school or college, come back home, and report every detail of my day
to them. Meanwhile, my friends who lived in hostels would tell me stories of
their glorious independence—late-night girly parties, sneaking out for midnight
movies, and the thrill of making their own decisions without constant
supervision.
I wanted that life. I didn’t care if the hostel food
was terrible or if I had to share a tiny room with three other people—I just
wanted the freedom to experience life on my own terms. So, when I finally
agreed to pursue B.Ed, my dream wasn’t just about becoming a teacher. It was
about breaking free, stepping out of my comfort zone, and living a little.
But, oh, how wrong I was. My parents had a plan—a
master plan—that they executed with the precision of expert strategists. While
I was busy fantasising about independent life and strolling through the campus
of a faraway college, and applying there all excited , they quietly got
admission to a college just a few kilometres from home.
When the
admission results came in, they broke the news with smug smiles.
“Congratulations! You got into St. Xaviers again,” my
mom said, beaming.
“Where ?” I asked, my heart pounding because it is where I have done my degree.
“Oh, it’s nearby—just a ten-minute drive!”
Wait, what? Nearby? Ten minutes? This wasn’t part of
the deal! “But I wanted to go far away!” I protested, panic rising in my voice.
“Why go far when the best college is right here?” my dad said as if this was
the most logical thing in the world.
And just like that, my dreams of hostel adventures and
independence were crushed. Instead of late-night girly nights, I got my mom
barging into my room to scold me for some foolishness. Instead of sneaking out
for midnight movies, I got my dad asking me to and reminding me to take an
umbrella because it might rain. And instead of hostel freedom, I got
home-cooked food, unsolicited advice, and a daily reminder that nothing escapes
parental control.
Once college began, it felt like my school life had
returned. Busy days filled with assignments, seminars, projects, and reports
became my new normal. But, surprisingly, I started to enjoy it. The internship
days were the real highlight. Hearing children call me “Sreelakshmi Miss” for
the first time melted my heart. Their innocent smiles, mischievous questions,
and endless energy made every moment worth it. I got to teach, laugh, and
create memories that I’ll carry forever.
This B. Ed journey, which began as a parental
conspiracy, ended up being one of the most beautiful chapters of my life. It
gave me a sense of purpose, countless happy experiences, and a treasure of
memories both to cry and laugh. So, can I really blame my parents for tricking
me into this? Not entirely. Turns out, they knew me better than I knew myself.
And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this:
Indian parents don’t just make plans. They execute them with military
precision, all while making you believe it was your idea in the first place.
