The Beauty of History
As a child, I was enchanted with the past. I doubt that I can pinpoint the exact moment when my fascination with history began, but it is clear to me that after all this time, it is a passion that will remain with me till the end of my days. Ever since I could remember, my mind has been deeply entrenched with the thoughts of the evolving world.
“How did our world come to be?”
“How did we come to speak this particular language? Why and when did we decide to create the alphabet and words?”
Eight-year-old me was full of inquisitive thoughts and my poor software engineer father could not keep up with my questions and curiosities. His solution to this was to bring home the most extensive encyclopedia I had ever laid my eyes upon. “The History of the World” became my obsession. I read every word carefully and began to learn the world's secrets. I looked at maps, experienced the rise and fall of civilisations, felt the immense pains of war and tragedy, and watched in awe as the knowledge of words and languages became known to me. It was at this moment that I realized that the first love of my life was and will always be history.
This love and craze for understanding history never waned, even as the other activities in my life, such as basketball and dance, slowly dissipated from my life, history remained the one constant in my life. But even then, every story tends to have its ups and downs, and this case is no different. As my school life went on, I began to feel upset and hurt by my environment. I felt dejected, misunderstood and lonely. I lost sight of my dreams and aspirations. No, I had no idea as to what my dreams and hopes for life were, and couldn’t comprehend what exactly I was supposed to do in this fast-paced world. As an individual in India, students are almost always thrust into fields of science and commerce, with the hopes that the child will become a doctor, engineer, businessman or even a lawyer. In this climate, it was hard for me. As a student I was well-qualified, I scored high marks. According to my teachers and relatives, I had the aptitude to pursue a career in any of these routes if I wished to do so.
But my interest had never once been in those fields. It didn’t matter that I was good at studies and scored good grades, it wasn’t enough of a reason for me to pursue my studies in them. In those dark moments, my love of history shone a light on my future and with that, I decided that I would continue on the path that I have cherished ever since I was a child, even if the rest of my world frowned upon it. My life began to take on a more positive outlook as I found my purpose and love once again.
“As long as you love what you do, it will all work out in the end,”
My father responded when I told him of my desire to study history. My mother agreed that she would support me as she has always done. The rest of the world wasn’t as understanding as they were. Several grown-ups stated that it was a foolish dream to have and they couldn’t understand why a talented individual like me would throw it all away for something as vague as history.
“Why don’t you become a doctor? You certainly have the marks for it”
“ That’s surprising. Are you sure you want your child to continue her studies in the Humanities?”
“What job could she possibly hope to get with history? She won’t be able to make any money”
Many similar taunts were said out loud and whispered everywhere I went. But with the support of my parents, I was determined to prove them all wrong and succeed in fulfilling my dreams and achieving the goals I had set out in life.
As I pursued my “far-fetched” notion of working in the field of history, I went to new places and met new, like-minded people. I learned more, presented my ideas, and engaged in rewarding conversations with others. Step by step, I grew more confident in my discussions and debates. My approach and my research into history became more refined. I slowly found my place in the study of the ancient world.
My journey has not ended, actually, it is far from over. My journey of life has been quite a struggle so far, but it is something that I hope to look back on proudly. I have realised one thing in my time of learning and understanding life. Hopes and desires make us human, and this doesn’t seem to change with time. They give us reasons to do what we do and inspire strong feelings and emotions. Any hope or aspirations an individual has for life is precious to them, and I believe my story is an example of this.
For me, I hope that this desire for the knowledge of bygone worlds will continue to take me to more places and to new people. Most of all, I pray that I do not lose this passion and continue to live my life in this manner.
