Graduation blues are hard. Harder when you don’t have a job. Hardest when you feel ambitionless. Ambition, I believe, is a widely overrated thing. When you’re privileged enough to not care about putting food on the table or don’t have any families to support, how many of us feel an innate desire to work towards something? This lack of ambition becomes a cause for anxiety by itself. I worked for a year at a renowned private educational institution only to realise that I don’t want my life to be a part of an elitist money-sucking excuse for an education, even if I’m a product of one. I quit a few months ago and have since been trying to make sense of my life. I was talking to an elder female relative about this state of intellectual numbness I’m feeling. I poured my heart out about all the “pursue your passion” books I’m reading these days but how none of these books are telling me what my passion should be, how I’m just 23 years old and should be reaching for the stars but no book is telling me which stars to reach for to be exact. She listened keenly to all my woes and then exclaimed, “I KNOW WHAT YOU NEED TO DO. JOIN A KITTY PARTY!”
I stared at her in disbelief but ended the conversation right there. This suggestion gave rise to a whirlpool of questions in my mind. How was joining a kitty party going to help me find perspective in life? Do kitty parties with a purpose exist? Perhaps kitty parties with a special career-counseling wing that helps ambitionless folks like myself? Since when do kitty parties serve as a substitute for ambition? If I kill enough time gossiping about celebrities and lawn prints, will I be able to fill this void that irks me perpetually?
The answer to all of these questions is unfortunately ‘no’. In Pakistan, way too often, a girl is told that her options to pursue a career are limited: she shouldn’t make films because the film industry is not a ‘good place’ for girls, she shouldn’t become a lawyer because the court environment is just not safe for a girl, she shouldn’t become an engineer because the practical aspects of the job are more suitable for a man. Then what options does that leave you with? What you can do is to choose from the following professions: teaching, medicine, designing and course - joining a kitty party!
How convenient it is to never have to jump out of your comfort zone and actually build a life for yourself, I sometimes think to myself. You can have everything handed down to you on a silver platter and then take it with all its costs and benefits: the benefits being leisure and comfort, the cost being the lack of self.
Of course there are trailblazers in every field. There’s a Muniba Mazari who is inspiring people left, right and center, more than thousands of us with functional legs. For thousands of girls who are confined within their homes, there is a Samina Baig who is reaching heights, literally. For thousands of girls whose lives are snuffed out in the dark, there’s a Sharmeen Obaid-Chinoy who tears apart all social conventions and tells stories as they are. For thousands of girls who are taught to choose comfort and safety over risk, there’s a Mariam Mukhtar who showed us how glorious it is to soar.
As much as we would all like to believe it, though, not all of us are meant to excel. This could be due to a combination of factors - luck, dedication, talent, opportunities etc. So, I find myself wondering if we ought to even bother trying. The idealist in me refuses to swallow it easily.
Going back to the advice that prompted all this reflection, my purpose, of course, is in no way to demean women who are a part of kitty parties. Nearly every woman in my family has her own kitty party, excluding my 12-year-old baby sister and myself - and she will join the ranks sooner than me.
My point, to put it out there with brutal simplicity (if I may), is that perhaps one ought not to confuse it with a career!
I stared at her in disbelief but ended the conversation right there. This suggestion gave rise to a whirlpool of questions in my mind. How was joining a kitty party going to help me find perspective in life? Do kitty parties with a purpose exist? Perhaps kitty parties with a special career-counseling wing that helps ambitionless folks like myself? Since when do kitty parties serve as a substitute for ambition? If I kill enough time gossiping about celebrities and lawn prints, will I be able to fill this void that irks me perpetually?
The answer to all of these questions is unfortunately ‘no’. In Pakistan, way too often, a girl is told that her options to pursue a career are limited: she shouldn’t make films because the film industry is not a ‘good place’ for girls, she shouldn’t become a lawyer because the court environment is just not safe for a girl, she shouldn’t become an engineer because the practical aspects of the job are more suitable for a man. Then what options does that leave you with? What you can do is to choose from the following professions: teaching, medicine, designing and course - joining a kitty party!
How convenient it is to never have to jump out of your comfort zone and actually build a life for yourself, I sometimes think to myself. You can have everything handed down to you on a silver platter and then take it with all its costs and benefits: the benefits being leisure and comfort, the cost being the lack of self.
Of course there are trailblazers in every field. There’s a Muniba Mazari who is inspiring people left, right and center, more than thousands of us with functional legs. For thousands of girls who are confined within their homes, there is a Samina Baig who is reaching heights, literally. For thousands of girls whose lives are snuffed out in the dark, there’s a Sharmeen Obaid-Chinoy who tears apart all social conventions and tells stories as they are. For thousands of girls who are taught to choose comfort and safety over risk, there’s a Mariam Mukhtar who showed us how glorious it is to soar.
As much as we would all like to believe it, though, not all of us are meant to excel. This could be due to a combination of factors - luck, dedication, talent, opportunities etc. So, I find myself wondering if we ought to even bother trying. The idealist in me refuses to swallow it easily.
If I kill enough time gossiping about celebrities and lawn prints, will I be able to fill this void that irks me perpetually?
Going back to the advice that prompted all this reflection, my purpose, of course, is in no way to demean women who are a part of kitty parties. Nearly every woman in my family has her own kitty party, excluding my 12-year-old baby sister and myself - and she will join the ranks sooner than me.
My point, to put it out there with brutal simplicity (if I may), is that perhaps one ought not to confuse it with a career!