My love letter to Journalism and you - Part 1 (2019)

Seven years to the day I had just passed my Intermediate exams, different people had different aspirations attached to my future, my dad had always wished for me to become a fighter pilot and my mom, well my mom never actually was specific about what she wanted my future to be but she also wished for her son to be a someone with the perks and pre-requisites a ‘rich man’ is supposed to have.

My physical shortcomings (obesity and flat feet) kept me from pursuing my father's dream of seeing me as a pilot after that initial phase of hopes and dreams pegged upon me were shattered, new expectations were born and I was again at the center of what had now become a demand after tremendous peer pressure and unsolicited advice, I was asked to pursue a career in what almost 9 out of every 10 guys growing up in Pakistan are destined to dabble with, engineering.

I was a mild-mannered child, the only male born out of the two my parents decided to have, the younger being my sister. My parents being two hard-working and self-made individuals belong to what is considered the ‘middle class’ of society.

My mom had been an elementary school teacher even before her marriage, a job she continued for the next 27 years and made sure that her kids got the best education money could buy. My dad had struggled through the blue-collar ranks to find a place in the upper echelon of Pakistan Steel Mills after a nearly 30-year career, he retires next month.

Growing up in the suburbs far away from the hustle and bustle of the megacity, Karachi. My worldview was quite limited until my mid-teens. I had barely seen the frenzied fast-paced lifestyle of the metropolis and was just going along with life at my own pace till reality eventually caught up with me and I had to keep up with how quickly and drastically things and the environment around me changed.

Civilization had arrived and what was once a far-flung area at the outskirts of Karachi was now fast becoming a hotbed for city folk trying to find better living amenities, the population surge had brought the ‘big city life’ to what was once a secluded area which people in the city barely knew about.

Fast-forwarding to my university, I had enrolled in an Engineering institute after much procrastination at my end. I had never given my career much thought. I was too lazy and was an extremely horrendous student, my school report cards were consistent in juxtaposing the word ‘careless’ with me at the end of each year and I am in agreement with the observation.

As time went by I had developed a non-conformist attitude about life, perhaps it was teen angst and passive aggression on my end which stuck, although I have tried to refine it and provide it with a meaningful direction as I have grown older.

I was always inclined towards the arts, I grew up fascinated with cartoons and movies, and I had major OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) for a good while when it came to my music collection.

I had grown up to be an opinionated individual who usually rubbed people the wrong way, although that was never the intention I had something to say on almost everything, this behavior had made me come off as very confrontational.

I do believe that a person who has no opinions is nothing short of being a mindless drone.

As far as opinions go, they should not be set in stone, they should be left loose and not be rigid. Being a good listener helps, acceptability, logic, and patience go a long way into shaping a much more able and purposeful existence.

I quit engineering after a semester much to the chagrin of my parents and “well-wishers”, I wanted to pursue a career in Journalism. Everyone who came to know about my decision treated the idea with disdain; a few scowls were also thrown in for extra measure. But, I was firm on my decision even if it meant attending the notorious University of Karachi which had been a mainstay in the daily news since its inception for being the breeding grounds to some of the biggest socio-political movements in Pakistan’s history.

I had heard the stories and I was told the cons, gang violence, party politics, drugs and exaggerated mingling with the other sex resulting in customary thrashings were the usual tales being told. I had declared mutiny at my humble abode and was raising a rebellion to be granted the chance to fulfill my passion. My parents finally gave in to my consistent demand and allowed me to pursue further studies from the Mass Communications and Journalism department at K.U (Karachi University).

I barely attended class, yet I managed to pass the exams even without studying the course books and photocopied handouts distributed prior to the exams. This in no way says that I was “too cool for school” I had my fair share of failures and had to clear at least one supplementary exam after each semester ended. I finally managed to graduate after 4 years with a degree (sort of).

I do have my reservations about what is being taught at our prestigious institutes in the name of education and if you have read thus far then you might’ve gotten an idea that I was essentially opposed to everything which was systematic, repetitive, theoretical, safe and primarily boring. I used to seek thrill in life, the perils of being young, wild, and free perhaps.

I was hell-bent on the idea that journalism is a practical field rather than being a theoretical science, as time has gone by and my experience in the practical world has increased, my views on theories and their importance have changed but I still think that a practical approach to everything is a necessity and mere theory is just scratching the surface.

I joined one of the biggest English newspapers fresh out of graduation as an intern, a three month period that built a base for my journalistic future and told me from the start how complacency and laziness would prove to be detrimental in this line of work.

I was never given a permanent job there, I was bummed out and hopeless, I kept trying my hand at various things but to no avail. I kept failing my job interviews due to lack of confidence and low self-esteem, I also lost some due to confusion and nervousness.

After several failed attempts I landed my first proper job 3 years back at a well-known media outlet of Pakistan. My salary was fixed at PKR, 35000. Which is not bad at all, considering it was my first job, a proper one anyway.

With tremendous zeal and enthusiasm, I was ready to take on the world and make them take note of my writings and what I had to say, I finally had a platform. I was motivated and rearing to go till harsh reality was met with unbridled idealism.

Petty office politics, agenda-driven news making, concealment of the truth, fake news, sponsored and manufactured lies, bribery, extortion, short-cuts, brown-nosery, leg-pulling, inferiority and superiority complexes, exploitation of the workforce, pygmy gods, manipulation, yellow journalism, anarchy, sensationalism, opportunism, theft, selling of the soul, corruption, deceit were all part and parcel of the “shiny new world” of the biggest influence agent in the world, the media.

I was extremely distraught and disappointed; my idols had been smashed to smithereens right before my eyes. I was then reminded of the story of how a little bird kept trying to put out a forest fire with whatever water it could hold in its beak, it certainly didn’t put out the fire but the bird did it’s duty, diligently and honestly not bothered with how things ended.

I was met with some success; I am pleased with the milestones I have achieved thus far in my pre-pubescent journalistic career although, I have seen through the facade.