Chapter One
Adolescent Dream
One quiet
afternoon, a boy arrived with his parents. His face carried both pride and
unease. He had excelled in his 12th board examinations, securing a district
rank that made his parents beam with joy. To them, the path was obvious—he
should become an IT Engineer. Yet the boy’s heart was tuned to a different
rhythm. His dream was not of machines and circuits, but of justice and law.
The disagreement
had cast a shadow over their home. His parents, though proud, were troubled. I
asked them to sit silently, to listen without interruption, while I spoke to
their son.
“Tell me,” I
began gently, “why do you want to pursue law?”
His answer was
not hesitant, but firm. He spoke of justice, of standing beside those who
cannot defend themselves, of his fascination with debates and the living spirit
of constitutional values. His eyes glowed with conviction, as though the fire
of his dream had already been lit.
I leaned closer,
not to test him, but to awaken him to the depth of his own vision. My questions
were not mere inquiries; they were invitations to reflect, to prepare, to touch
the soul of his dream:
- How did this interest take root
within you?
- Who are the figures whose lives inspire
your journey?
- What is the highest level of
achievement in this field?
- Which is the most distinguished position
in law?
- Which institutions of the world
stand as the beacons of learning for this profession?
- What challenges are you ready to
embrace?
His responses
revealed not confusion, but clarity. He spoke of Nani Palkhivala and the
immortal Kesavananda Bharati case, of Rohinton Nariman’s eloquent speeches, of
Harvard and Yale, and of India’s National Law Schools. His words carried the
weight of study, admiration, and aspiration.
He was not
fleeing engineering—he was running toward law, with purpose as his compass.
Then he shared an
incident that had left a deep impression on him.
“I was quite young,” he said, “when I witnessed Indira Jaisingh appear in
court. It was a case between two giant television serial producers. She entered
the courtroom in her white robe, dignified and calm. The moment she began to
plead, the atmosphere changed. A pin‑drop silence fell across the room. Even
the judge leaned forward, listening intently. Behind her stood five or six
assistants, attentive and respectful.
She argued for hardly ten minutes. Every
sentence of hers carried weight, precision, and authority. Then she left the
courtroom and directly boarded a flight to Delhi. That moment stayed with
me—the authority of her presence, the power of her words, the respect she
commanded. It was then I realised that law was not merely a profession; it was
a calling.”
His voice carried
the awe of that memory, and I could see how it had shaped his dream.
I turned to his
parents. “Your son is not lost,” I said. “He is clear. His dream is not a
passing fancy. It is backed by role models, by institutions, by a roadmap, and
by lived inspiration. This is not a fragile wish—it is an engineered dream. And
such dreams rarely fail.”
The tension
dissolved. The family left with harmony restored. The boy left with renewed
confidence. He had not merely imagined a dream; he had begun to engineer it.
When a dream is
engineered, it ceases to be a fleeting desire. It becomes destiny in motion—an
idea transformed into a path, a vision sculpted into reality.
Dr. Mahendra
Ingale @ Pune, May 1, 2026
Author of Value‑Based
Leadership
#EngineeringDreamsInspiringSouls #ValueBasedLeadership
#EngineeringHeartBeats
(From ‘Engineering
Dreams, Inspiring Souls’, coming soon)
