Daily Times

Parents often question their young ones about what they wish to become when they grow up, and if the child shows an inclination towards becoming a teacher, or in playful zest replies that he/she wants to be like the storekeeper they often visit at the corner of the street, Pakistani parents are quick to correct these ambitions. “No, son, you will become a doctor or a pilot” is how the narrative goes in most middle class and upper middle class homes.

We study hard for many years to be able to educate ourselves to procure a well-paying job, but after only a few years the enthusiasm fizzles out. Many then start looking for ways to start their own business; one can only make so much money in a nine-to-five job is the thought that drives the “ordinary” folks to entertain job-suicidal thoughts.

So everything around them starts appearing as a prospective business idea: if the wife prepares a scrumptious dish they never fail to suggest that if she sold it somewhere it would be a big hit. When relatives come visiting from overseas, most of us are keen to show them samples of clothing ready to be exported despite the relatives’ disinterest in going through the tunics and the dupattas. Every person in the struggling median class knows someone who is into designing or exporting ethnic-wear, and is earning a substantial amount from it. There’s always a very sharp person in our community, quickly making social jumps, and we blame our “nobility” for not having the skills to
con people.

Middle class dreams of earning well begin early on in our lives; we learn to check price tags of commodities first, and then decide to like or dislike them. Our desires become budget-ed, but this is learned only in adolescence because as children we wanted the world for ourselves. The toy store clerks would only be too happy to divulge stories about children who protested by lying on the floor only to be dragged out by a parent. We cannot afford it this month, son/daughter, is what a lot of young ones heard when they wanted a dollhouse or a fast moving car. Over time living month to month becomes the norm, and the rowdy child starts adjusting his/her wants according to the cash coming into the household.

The worst pressure was always reserved for the firstborns of the family though as they were made to feel like a saviour as though all financial burden of the family lay over him/her. The advice to them was to secure great marks to land a greater job eventually so that the family could be lifted out of personal loans, shifted out of decaying houses, and younger siblings could lead better lives than the older one experienced. The favourite of the family is usually the one who came last into the nest, and he/she can practically get away with anything, but the firstborn is made to experience a life that sadly mirrors an Indian art film starring Nana Patekar or the ilk.

In Pakistan and much of South Asia, it is only the elite that lives a good life so the rest of the population spends a major part of their time daydreaming about “how it would be when we have money.” Being the emotionally high-strung people that we are, we make big promises to those around us about the gifts we intend on buying them once we become a person of importance. Or win the lottery of some kind. These promises, often made sitting idly in the drawing room in the afternoon, many a time begin with buttering up God. So a Hajj trip for the parents is a given; the sibling present at the wishful-thinking session is promised a big shopping spree, and fancy cars; but not-before-I-open-my-own-welfare-trust-for-the-poor solemn declaration. Most pledges would be forgotten over time.

However, the going-to-job section of society is often the one with the most benevolent heart. They do not hesitate much in feeding the poor or handing out some change to beggars, for they have also known hand-to-mouth days and better times. The privileged classes of the country host grand parties at each turn of their lives, but as for the regular folks, the hosting of the wedding of their loved one is considered the biggest event of their lifetime, so they start preparing for it years before the actual date.

With simplicity taking a backseat in our lives now, and our needs increasing materialistically, the middle class has slowly become all about cashing in on opportunities or connections. It all boils down to pushing one’s existence in well-to-do circles so that one can also glide easily to the other end. In the beginning of our lives we dreamt of following our hearts, but now for most people it is about maintaining a good appearance for others in the rat race. A couplet by Jaun Elia helps to summarise the dearth of genuine ambition amongst our tribe: All our dreams have died/everyone rues the reality.

The writer is a freelance columnist with a degree in Cultural Studies and a passion for social observation, especially all things South Asian. She tweets @chainacoffeemug