This Is It
Shanjida Nusrath Ali
Nervousness. Impatience. Worry.
All three constantly run through my mind, making my heart race so fast that I can hear it drumming in my ears.
It will be okay. It will be okay.
I keep chanting these words like a mantra but deep down, I know my mind won’t calm down until I see it.
For the 30th time, perhaps, I click on the refresh option, watching my email page load. But disappointment hits me when I don’t see the email I have been waiting for for the past five months.
I swallow the lump in my throat, licking my dry lips before sitting back against the pillow and resting the laptop on my lap.
I click refresh again, this time begging Allah to help me get through this moment.
New email from Berkley Publishing.
It’s here.
I feel my heart skip a beat. I instantly look away, feeling fearful of just seeing the first few lines which might have the phrase, “We regret to inform you.” The phrase has come across my mind several times but this email will finally give me the answer I’ve been seeking.
Exhaling a deep breath, I gather every ounce of my courage and look back at the screen, clicking on the email.
I read each and every word and after I finish reading the entire email, I put away my laptop on the bed before standing up.
Without thinking, I let out a scream in joy, raising my hands and dancing in pure ecstasy.
“Yes! Oh my god! Yes!” I scream, not caring if the neighbors are about to come to our house with a noise complaint.
This is my moment to live in and it is a moment I will never forget.
My story has been accepted by one of New York’s top publishing houses, and I even received a contract with them.
Just then, the door of my bedroom bursts open and my parents enter. Broad smiles spread on their faces and, before I know it, they usher me into a tight hug.
“We are so proud of you, Suraiya! You finally get to live your dream!” My mom exclaims in pure joy. Even my dad joins in, kissing my temple before he leans back, offering me a prideful smile with his chest puffing.
“I’m truly proud to call you my daughter. And I’m so happy you will be setting foot into the dream that you worked so hard for.”
How do they know? I haven’t shared the news yet.
“We got a call from your school’s office. They said you achieved the top rank in your school. A+ in physics, chemistry, and biology.”
My A Levels results. Oh no…I almost forgot.
Such news would typically make me happy but, at this moment, it doesn’t bring me any joy. Instead, my heart races with fear…fear for the decision regarding my future.
I force a smile for my parents before they sit down with me on my bed, my father wrapping his arm around my shoulder and my mother grasping my hands on my lap.
“Now, you should start looking for the best medical universities abroad. I heard from some parents at your school that the UK and Canada have some reputable medical universities,” Mom says.
“Even my colleagues suggested Canada as the best option,” Dad adds. “And do not worry about the money. I will take care of it. We both will help you reach your dream of being a doctor.”
My dream? Is it really my dream?
I simply nod, feeling the words escape from my mind as my parents continue to map out my future abroad…like they always do.
Just then, the doorbell rings and my parents get up. “Your uncles and aunts must have arrived to celebrate your results. We will take care of them. Come and join us in a few minutes.” With that, they both leave, and I slump back in bed with my arms spread out. I look at the ceiling, unable to control my racing heart.
Why did I do this to myself in the first place?
I sigh as my mind keeps pacing with thought after thought…question after question.
Yes, I agree that since I was in kindergarten, I have always heard my parents telling others that their daughter will be a doctor. Their words still ring in my mind.
It is great that your daughter is studying in an English medium school. What subject will she be studying in the future?
— Our daughter plans to be in the field of science. She will be a doctor.
It was the same question with the same answer that it’s imprinted on my brain. But when I saw how happy my parents seemed every time they gave that answer, I felt like it was my duty to maintain that happiness. After all, they are my parents.
They raised me. They have given me anything I asked for without hesitation. They expressed each and every day how much they loved and adored me. And for that love, they have even made sacrifices for me that I will never forget.
Just for them, I took science, telling myself every day that this was my dream too. But at the end of the day, I know I was lying to myself. Deep down, I had the belief that perhaps even I would accept this lie at one point.
But I couldn’t.
Today was the moment that made me realize how trapped I was feeling being in that lie, because despite getting such good grades I felt no happiness…no peace.
The only thing that did bring me pure joy was seeing that email…seeing my dream being given the chance I was seeking.
The dream of being a writer.
I don’t know how or when it started, but when I wrote the first chapter of my story, the words that poured out from my imagination felt as if they were coming out on their own. There were no rules, no theory, no calculation, and no boundaries.
Anyone else would say it was nothing but filling a paper with words, but for me it was a bridge towards my passion that I never experienced before. And seeing the acceptance email will be a memory I will never forget. The ecstasy I felt was out of this world. But I want to share this with my parents.
I want them to know what my dream truly is.
I have the strong urge to walk out of my room and go to the living room. Stand in front of my relatives and parents, and tell them about my dream…about my passion…about my future.
But I also know that if I express my emotions, they will either laugh it off awkwardly or scold me for choosing something that is usually seen as a hobby. And I can’t even imagine the questions they will start asking.
A writer? Have you lost your mind?
You want to be a writer instead of a doctor? Why?
Doctors have a stable and respectable future, and you want to give all that up for your hobby?
An endless list of questions while I stand there acting like a mute.
But what if I tell my Mom in private?
She has always understood me more than anyone else, so perhaps she will understand my dream too. But how will I explain it to her?
Hey Mom, I don’t want to be a doctor, I want to be a writer.
Only if it was that easy. The minute I utter those words, I can vividly picture the disappointment and sadness that will cloud her face. My heart will break with guilt because I will be crushing my parents’ dream. It would be selfish of me to do that to them.
Just the thought of it makes my vision blurry with tears as they stream down my cheeks.
All these years of time, money, and sacrifices will go to waste.
But this is a decision I will have to live with for the rest of my life. It won’t feel like a dream, it will be a duty that I have to fulfill just to keep my parents happy.
But for how long? They won’t be in my life forever, and yet I will still need to keep living with this decision…with this lie.
I have always been dependent on my parents to make the choices in my life. I have trusted them blindly and, so far, all their decisions have been for my own good. After all, they are my parents, and they know what’s best for me. But I can’t always be dependent on them. At one point, I will need to make my own choices because at the end of the day, this is my life.
And today, I will make that choice.
Getting up, I exhale a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves down and wipe away my tears.
The door of my room opens and Mom comes in, a scarf covering her head like she always does when guests visit our house. She closes the door behind her and comes towards me with a bright smile.
She is truly happy. How can I even tell her the truth and take away that happiness?
“Your uncles and aunts are so happy for you. They are eager to meet you. Wear that new dress I bought for you last week; it’s a special occasion after all. I will get it for you.”
Again, the choices for me are made by her and I don’t argue.
She opens my wardrobe and goes through my dresses while continuing with her words.
“Your aunt was asking which field of medical science you want to study in. I said cardiologist for now, but if you plan to go for something else, let me know so that I can give the right answer next time.” She lets out a chuckle, continuing her search.
“But a cardiologist is a very good option. I heard they get paid very well and have a respected status too. But do you have any idea what you want to be?”
Her question catches me by surprise because, for the first time ever, I am being asked that question. Now is the time for me to answer to her and myself — whether I want to live a life with a lie or reveal the truth and embrace it with my head held high.
This is it.
“I know what I want to be, Mom.”
“Ah, found it. What do you want to be?” She turns to face me with a white dress in hand.
“I don’t want to be a doctor; I want to be a writer and I already received an acceptance email from a well-known publishing house which offered me a contract to publish my book in the USA.”
There. I said it.
And just I guessed, I watch as the smile vanishes from her face. She drops my dress and sits beside me with a serious and worrisome look.
“W-What are you saying?” She stutters.
“The truth.” I face her, meeting her gaze and hold her hand, needing her warmth. “I know that you want me to be a doctor but this isn’t what I want. My dream is to be a writer and I’m passionate about it. I know you and Dad have always made decisions for me but this time I want to make my own decisions.”
She shakes her head. “No. You can’t be a writer. You have studied nothing but science and you need a higher degree. You need to finish university and writing won’t—”
“There is scope for the future without writing, Mom. I could change my course and take English while focusing on my writing. In the future, I can work more in the publishing field.”
“Writers don’t even earn that much, so how do you plan to have a stable future with a low income? We won’t always be there to help you financially. Think logically, Suraiya. You have to survive in this society on your own. This is real life and the profession of a doctor is in high demand. And what will people say? What will your relatives say when they find out you quit science for writing?”
I nod. “I know, Mom. But I don’t want to just survive. You said that I will live my dream. Writing is my dream and I want to live it. It’s not the people who raised me. Neither is it my uncles, aunts, or cousins who helped me through every problem and always supported me…wanting the best for me. It’s been you and Dad. I don’t care what others think because you two matter to me, just like I matter to you.”
I wrap my arms around her, shedding tears and inhaling her sweet scent which always calms me down.
“Please, Mom. This is the turning point of my life which will decide my true happiness. And that lies with being an author. Isn’t that what you want for me? For your daughter to be happy?” I whisper, tightening my hold around her.
“Please, Mom. Please…I just want you and dad to understand because I can’t take this leap of faith without you both supporting me.”
The silence lasts several moments, which feels like an eternity to me. We both utter nothing and Mom doesn’t even hug me back. My hopes of changing her mind seem to decay with every passing second, filling my heart with disappointment.
“Are you sure this is what you truly want?” She asks.
“Yes. I really want to do this,” I answer without hesitation.
I feel her arms tighten around me in a hug. “Okay.”
I lean back, frowning in confusion. “Okay? Like, you are okay with my decision?”
She offers me a soft smile before cupping my face and wiping away my tears.
“I do not know how this decision will affect your life. I do not know if others will support your decision or not. And I also do not know if you will succeed. But if this is what you truly want and if this makes you happy, then I’m ready to support my daughter.”
My heart somersaults at her words and I smile through my tears before engulfing her in my arms.
“Thank you, Mom. Thank you so much.”
“Both of us will always be there for you, Suraiya. Your happiness is what we want for you.”
“I promise, Mom. I will try my best and make you both proud.”
She lightly chuckles while caressing my hair. “We are already proud to have a daughter like you.”
I still can’t believe that she agreed with my decision and let me make my own choices. But the peace I was seeking finally comes to me in this moment, and I have never been happier.