Speaking of sweetest songs and saddest thoughts as the rebel within the poetry book suggests, Mom & Dad, won't it be the best music to your ears be when you could proudly hear your son being addressed "Doctor" Himanshu Mathur?
Our saddest songs are often a deeper journey into our fanciest ones...
I could see myself writing this to you on a prescription pad which upheld my degrees on the letter-head. Mom & Dad, that makes me happy -- the paraphernalia surrounding the "Doctor" -- the shiny silver stethoscope, the crisp white coat, and being able to supervise the welfare of a sick body. Just then my poetic self tries to remedy the language, "sick body, or sick soul?"
There it is, my advanced acceptance in curing ailments and not in the healing. As I find you both completely engrossed in the success of my Entrance Exams, I cannot help but feel sad about becoming impersonal towards the nobility of the profession. You could safely say that Poetry ruined me, perhaps add Cinema too, and may be go on to blame my Friends...I do not know how to get you to see my case.
Except that not only do I not want to study Medical, I should not be studying it too. Reasons being:
a. Money invested in the wrong field, even if it yields profits, cannot beget happiness. No, not in buying muffins or vacations either, as, being a Doctor I would know having many muffins would be bad for my health and going on too many vacations would not be appropriate.
b. Should I not be able to live up to being Dr Himanshu Mathur, how bad could a Prof Mathur be? Or something else?
c. Especially if I crack other Entrances and win my way with a full scholarship? Or try to.
I leave my further step to the faith on your clinical judgement, and rest my case,
PS: I have attached, as evidence, my results of the Law Entrance too.
Forgive me if I may have proved you wrong in blaming Poetry after all, Mom & Dad, Reason is the reason.
Our saddest songs are often a deeper journey into our fanciest ones...
I could see myself writing this to you on a prescription pad which upheld my degrees on the letter-head. Mom & Dad, that makes me happy -- the paraphernalia surrounding the "Doctor" -- the shiny silver stethoscope, the crisp white coat, and being able to supervise the welfare of a sick body. Just then my poetic self tries to remedy the language, "sick body, or sick soul?"
There it is, my advanced acceptance in curing ailments and not in the healing. As I find you both completely engrossed in the success of my Entrance Exams, I cannot help but feel sad about becoming impersonal towards the nobility of the profession. You could safely say that Poetry ruined me, perhaps add Cinema too, and may be go on to blame my Friends...I do not know how to get you to see my case.
Except that not only do I not want to study Medical, I should not be studying it too. Reasons being:
a. Money invested in the wrong field, even if it yields profits, cannot beget happiness. No, not in buying muffins or vacations either, as, being a Doctor I would know having many muffins would be bad for my health and going on too many vacations would not be appropriate.
b. Should I not be able to live up to being Dr Himanshu Mathur, how bad could a Prof Mathur be? Or something else?
c. Especially if I crack other Entrances and win my way with a full scholarship? Or try to.
I leave my further step to the faith on your clinical judgement, and rest my case,
PS: I have attached, as evidence, my results of the Law Entrance too.
Forgive me if I may have proved you wrong in blaming Poetry after all, Mom & Dad, Reason is the reason.
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