What Should I Study? I’m Not Sure

The clock showed ten in the morning. The day after our results were published, there was a festive mood in our house. I got a GPA-5 in the SSC exams, and everyone from relatives to neighbors was congratulating me. Sweets were being distributed in celebration, and an aunty from our neighborhood joyfully fed me a sweet. My mother, overjoyed, kept patting my head and saying, “You’ve made us so proud!” My father, beaming with pride, told everyone, “My son will get into the best college and study science.” Everyone’s faces were lit up with smiles—everyone except me, as I sat there silently.

I was surrounded by so many people, yet my mind was wandering somewhere else. I overheard conversations all around: “You’ll study science, right? Planning to be a doctor or an engineer?” An uncle said, “If you take science, you’ll have the chance to study medicine. Otherwise, what’s the value of such good results?” I nodded and smiled faintly. Deep inside, I was torn. To be honest, even I didn’t know what I wanted to study. All these years, I had only chased after good grades, never stopping to consider what my real interests were.

That night, after everyone had left, I sat quietly at my study table in my room. My books and notebooks were scattered about, but there was no peace of mind. I remembered the last day of school, when our homeroom teacher had asked each of us, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Some said engineer, some doctor, and others wanted to be government officers. When my turn came, I hesitated. I didn’t know what to say because I had no clear dream at the time. With a shy smile, I said, “I haven’t thought about it yet,” and a few classmates laughed.

That moment still makes me feel uneasy. I asked myself, What do I truly enjoy? Somewhere along the way, between chasing good marks and shuffling between tuition and coaching centers, I forgot to think about what I liked. One question kept haunting me: when everyone else has such big dreams, why can’t I decide on anything?

The Weight of Pressure

A few weeks later, I got admitted to the best science college in town. Congratulations and blessings poured in from all sides, but inside, I was still uncertain. On the first day of classes, during introductions, everyone talked about their future goals. Most mentioned becoming doctors or engineers. I began to feel small because I still had no clear idea about my future. Still, when my turn came, I said, “I’m studying science, hoping to be an engineer.” Even I could feel the words sounded foreign coming from me.

The new classes began. I worked hard as always—attending coaching, studying day and night. Yet inside, I kept feeling a constant pressure. I stayed up nights memorizing difficult physics and chemistry formulas, but the question kept popping up: Do I really want to study this? In trying to fulfill my parents’ dreams, I felt like I had become a machine. School, coaching, studying, exams—it felt like I was trapped in this cycle.

At home, my father would often ask, “How’s coaching going? Are you preparing well?” My mother would say, “University entrance exams are next year, get serious from now.” I nodded and replied yes, but secretly I was exhausted. One Sunday afternoon, I was reading a storybook when my mother spotted me and said, “This isn’t the time for these storybooks—focus on your studies.” I saw the grown-ups always dismissing my likes as mere hobbies, insisting that studies would determine everything for the future.

After a while, the results of the first term exam came out. I didn’t get top marks like before—my results were average. Father was a little annoyed when he heard. At the dinner table, he said, “Can you go on like this? Doesn’t seem like you’re focusing enough. Remember, to get into medical school, you’ll have to beat tough competition.”

I quietly finished my meal and got up. In my room, I started thinking. It upset me to see father so disappointed. My parents have done so much for me—it’s their dream to see me with a bright future. Maybe my father himself wanted to be a doctor or engineer but couldn’t, and now he wants to fulfill that dream through me. But was I really struggling to focus? Or was I simply losing interest in my subjects? I couldn’t figure out why my mind wandered whenever I sat at my desk, why I no longer felt like memorizing my lessons. I used to enjoy studying! Or was it only because I had the goal of good grades?

I had a friend in college, named Arif. He was always absorbed with computers. During breaks, he would read programming books, and after school he’d go home and work on coding projects. His eyes sparkled whenever he talked about creating new software. Arif would say resolutely, “I’ll study Computer Science in BUET. I’ll do whatever it takes for that.” I was amazed at how sure he was about himself! I used to wish—I wish I had something in my life that made me forget everything else! In class, I sometimes pretended to be just as focused, but inside, I felt empty.

Finding My Passion

One day, amidst the busyness of college, I was straightening my closet when I found an old diary. As I dusted it off, a few pages fell out—old writings from my school days, a story I had written as a child. It was published in the school magazine when I was in class seven. Curious, I sat down and read my old piece. Reading that simple language and imaginative story, I felt a long-lost excitement in my heart. I thought, How long has it been since I wrote something from the heart! I’d been passionate about writing as a child, penning stories and poems and sharing them with friends. The pressure of SSC studies slowly made that hobby fade away.

After reading the diary, I pulled out a new notebook. For the first time in a long while, I felt the urge to write something from the heart. Late at night, after everyone was asleep, I turned on my desk lamp and slowly began writing a short story. As I wrote, I felt the weight inside me begin to lighten. I was pouring my feelings onto the page. I didn’t realize when the clock passed two—but when I finished the story, I let out a long sigh and felt an odd sense of relief.

The next day after Bengali class at college, I worked up the courage to approach my Bengali teacher. Sir was fond of literature and often asked us to submit pieces in class. I nervously told him, “Sir, I tried writing a short story. Would you read it?” He was surprised, but took the notebook with a smile. The very next day, Sir called me to the teachers’ room. I thought maybe there was a mistake, but when I went in, he was smiling. He said, “I read your story. It’s excellent! You write really well, why didn’t you mention it before?”

Surprised, I said, “Sir, I wrote after a long time… I’m not sure if it’s any good.” Sir encouraged me, “Of course it’s good. Your writing has emotion; you can express your feelings. Keep this up. At your age, finding your interests is very important. Everyone studies for exams, but don’t stop doing what you love. Maybe your true career or future is hidden within that passion.”

Sir’s words kept ringing in my head: “Finding your passion is very important… your future might be hidden within that interest.” That afternoon, on my way home, I kept thinking about what truly interests me. Why does writing feel so good? I remembered that besides storytelling, I used to love reciting poetry on stage at school events. I enjoyed drawing as a kid too. For years, I had dismissed these as mere hobbies. Now I realized that doing these things truly made me happy—happiness I never felt from just memorizing textbooks.

I decided, no matter how little, I would devote some time to what I loved outside of academics. So I started setting aside at least half an hour each day—between study sessions—for reading or story writing. Sometimes, I wrote poetry late at night for myself. Through writing, I felt my spirit come alive again. I signed up for recitation at the college’s annual cultural event. That day, I recited an excerpt from a speech by Bangabandhu on stage. At first, I was terrified, my hands and feet trembling; but once I began reciting, the fear disappeared, and my confidence came back. When I climbed down from the stage after finishing, the entire hall broke out in applause. In that moment, I was moved to tears. I was slowly regaining my self-confidence—I, too, am capable of something; I have my own identity beyond academics.

Finding My Path

Time went on. The Higher Secondary exams were approaching. My parents still assumed I would pursue medicine or engineering. But now, new dreams were awakening in my heart. Whenever I had time, I wrote stories and poems, and read Bengali literature. I decided that after college, I would study literature. But I didn’t know how to tell my parents. They had such high hopes for me. Coming from simple backgrounds themselves, my parents dreamed of my higher studies. If I suddenly chose a path unfamiliar to them, would they understand?

One evening, I kept pacing around the drawing room, wanting to talk to my father but hesitating. My mind was conflicted—What should I say? What if he gets really angry? Then I thought, If I don’t share my feelings, how will he ever know? After a while, I convinced myself, Whatever will be, will be, but I need to speak my mind. Finally, I gathered the courage to talk to my father.

Father was sipping tea after coming home from the office when I sat down beside him. Slowly, I said, “Dad, can I say something?” He smiled and said, “Go on, what is it?” My throat was dry, but I told him, “I’ve decided that after my HSC, I probably won’t study medicine.” Father looked at me, stunned. “What do you mean? Then engineering?” I shook my head, “No, I’m not interested in engineering either. I actually want to study literature—enroll in the Bengali department and pursue writing.” After saying it, it felt like a weight was lifted from my chest, but my father’s face turned stern. He paused, then said sharply, “What are you saying? You’ll go from science to arts now? What will people say? You want to be a writer? How will you make a living as a poet?” My mother, who had come and stood beside us, looked at me with worried eyes.

In a dry voice, I replied, “Dad, I know my decision is unexpected. But I’ve really thought it through—I love writing. If I study Bengali literature and do research, I could become a writer or a teacher. Becoming a doctor or engineer isn’t the only good career—there are other ways to succeed.” Father, annoyed, waved his hand, “Listen, I don’t want to hear any more about this now. Focus on your exams. Put these ideas aside and concentrate on your studies.” After finally mustering the courage to speak my mind, my father’s response left me on the verge of tears. My voice caught as I tried to speak, so I ran to my room.

I cried a lot that night. Mother came and sat by my side, silently stroking my head. She didn’t say anything at the time, but I felt she somewhat understood how I felt. My father might be angry, but I hoped my mother would understand. When she left, she said quietly, “Give your father some time; he’ll understand eventually. For now, focus on your exams.”

A few months later, I finished my Higher Secondary exams. They went well. But inside, I worried—Would I be able to choose my own path? Or would I eventually give in to everyone’s pressure and follow my father’s wishes? Just then, something amazing happened. Some months earlier, I had submitted a story to a national young writers contest. After my exams, one day, I unexpectedly received a letter in the mail. I opened the envelope to find a certificate and a letter—I had won third prize in a nationwide competition! I could hardly believe it.

Excitedly, I showed the letter to my mother. She was amazed, “You never told us you wrote a story!” I smiled shyly, “I thought I wouldn’t win… only just got the results.” She took the certificate in her hand, her face glowing with pride. My father was reading the newspaper in the drawing room at the time. Mother called out ecstatically, “Listen, your son won third prize in a writing competition!” My father looked at me in disbelief. I walked over and handed him the certificate. Through his eyes, I watched as he read, “National Young Writers Competition – Third Prize, [my name].” He silently looked at the certificate for a long time, then reflected, “Your writing is so good? I didn’t know that!” Mother laughed and said, “He never told us. He worked so hard for this prize without us even knowing!”

I bravely said, “Dad, I really do love to write. If you just give me a chance… I’ll prove I can do something with it.” Father sighed. After a pause, he said, “All right. If you truly want to study literature, then do it. I won’t stop you. I thought science would lead you to be a great doctor or engineer—that’s what I thought was best. But if you have this talent, I don’t want your dreams to be crushed. Just promise me—whatever you do, put your heart into it and work hard.” Tears filled my eyes again, but this time from happiness. I got up and hugged my father, promising, “I will give it my all, Dad. I won’t let you down.” My mother was also wiping her eyes—maybe she too found relief that day, seeing my worries soften.

Conclusion: Moving Forward on My Own Path

After my Higher Secondary results were published, I learned that I got the opportunity to enroll in the Bengali department at Dhaka University. The first person I told was my beloved Bengali teacher, the one who had encouraged me to write. On the other end of the phone, Sir exclaimed, “Didn’t I tell you your future lies in your passion? This is wonderful news!” With his blessings, I took my next steps forward.

When I entered the university campus with my admission form in hand, I felt like I was finally taking the first step towards my dream. My parents stood by my side that day—there was still some worry on their faces, but seeing my excitement, they smiled too. My friend Arif had also achieved his dream of getting into BUET’s Computer Science department. Both of us set out on the paths we loved. After all the doubts and confusion of college, I was finally beginning to walk the road I chose for myself.

As I strolled under the sprawling trees of the university, I remembered all those nights spent worrying about my future. If I had given up then, I wouldn’t have arrived at this moment of fulfilling my dreams. It was through those uncertain times that I gradually found my goals.

This entire journey wasn’t easy for me, but along the way, I learned some valuable lessons:

• Finding your true passion is essential. The pressure of studies and exams often makes you forget what you really enjoy, but the thing that brings you joy from within—that’s your real interest.
• Not everyone’s path is the same. Don’t suppress your wishes because of friends or social pressure. Some are happy studying medicine, some in music. Everyone has their own strengths and preferences.
• Your exam results aren’t everything. Good grades aren’t the only marker of success, and a couple of bad results don’t ruin your life. Don’t neglect your real talents or passions in pursuit of marks.
• Don’t get hopeless if you make mistakes or take time figuring things out. It took me a long time, too, to understand what I wanted. By trying different things, I eventually found my path. If you experience failure, learn from it—just don’t stop trying.
• Find a helpful mentor. Talk to a trusted teacher, older sibling, or friend about your interests and doubts. Their experience and encouragement can help you greatly in finding your way.
• Talk to your family, try to make them understand. It can be scary at first, but if you open up honestly, your family can gradually come to understand. They want what’s best for you, so explain with reasons and give them time.
• Believe in yourself. I know that pursuing my chosen path will mean lots of hard work and challenges. But I believe if you do what you love with persistence and patience, you can succeed.

All I’ll say at the end is: You too will one day find your own way. If you feel confused right now, remember that’s completely okay. We all gradually learn to understand what we like and dislike. This journey of searching might not be easy, but don’t give up. Ask yourself questions, explore new things, immerse yourself in what brings you joy. Try to keep your family and loved ones by your side. You’re not alone—there are many like you searching for answers. Gradually, you’ll step toward your goals, and the path that brings you joy—that’s the right path for you. Trust yourself and never stop dreaming.