Ever since Radha got a hold of her senses, she remembers being asked questions. She remembers being five, and being made to stand in a living room, a hoarde of friends and family surrounding her, throwing in one question after the other. "Radhu, what comes after D beta?", "Baby who is the Prime Minister of India", " tell me quickly what is 2+2?" Confused and bewildered with all those eyes watching her keenly she used to wade through all the questions, looking intently at the reactions of people around her. Her mummy's eyes sparkled with pride each time she got it right. Daddy laughed, clapping for her. And Bomkish Dadu even gave her candies. Knowing answers was important it seemed.
As Radha grew bigger, so did the seemingly never ending questions and the expectations of her getting them right. "What is metamorphosis?", "What did Robert Frost mean when he said he took the road not taken and that has made all the difference", "what do you want to be when you grow older", "Where do you see yourself in five years?". How? When? Why? What? Nonetheless, Radha tried as hard as she could to get them right. After all, how could she miss the chance of seeing mummy's eyes sparkle, and daddy laughing with pride. The clapping didn't happen anymore, and forget about the candy. After all she wasn't a baby anymore, was she?
But the harder she tried to get the right answers, the more she felt like she was failing. The backgrounds changed. From the living room to the classroom to the Dean's office to the boardroom, but Radha still felt like that five year old trapped in a 5 feet 4 inch 40 pound body; struggling to wade through, flailing around in a sea of questions. Until one day, she realised, while she was busy answering, she had forgotten to ask. Why does five come after four? Why isn't a rose called a lily? Do I need to choose between science and commerce? Why can't I do both? Or none of them if that's possible? Why do I have to decide what to do in the future? What about what I want to do now? But most important of all questions, is the question that why do we need to know answers of all questions? And if we know those answers, are the questions good enough?
As Radha grew bigger, so did the seemingly never ending questions and the expectations of her getting them right. "What is metamorphosis?", "What did Robert Frost mean when he said he took the road not taken and that has made all the difference", "what do you want to be when you grow older", "Where do you see yourself in five years?". How? When? Why? What? Nonetheless, Radha tried as hard as she could to get them right. After all, how could she miss the chance of seeing mummy's eyes sparkle, and daddy laughing with pride. The clapping didn't happen anymore, and forget about the candy. After all she wasn't a baby anymore, was she?
But the harder she tried to get the right answers, the more she felt like she was failing. The backgrounds changed. From the living room to the classroom to the Dean's office to the boardroom, but Radha still felt like that five year old trapped in a 5 feet 4 inch 40 pound body; struggling to wade through, flailing around in a sea of questions. Until one day, she realised, while she was busy answering, she had forgotten to ask. Why does five come after four? Why isn't a rose called a lily? Do I need to choose between science and commerce? Why can't I do both? Or none of them if that's possible? Why do I have to decide what to do in the future? What about what I want to do now? But most important of all questions, is the question that why do we need to know answers of all questions? And if we know those answers, are the questions good enough?
