Adolescent Dream

 

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)