…my life would have been anything but ordinary.

I was mulling about this last night and dozed off  to see my thoughts go live in my dreams.

If my father had been a politician, the mornings in our household would have been spared of the fights over grabbing the newspaper, for then there would be plenty of them, many featuring news about my father too. I was actually excited about this idea initially, but it didn’t take me long to feel worried by the fact that,  it would be a disturbing start to my mornings on many occasions. I am not trying to doubt my father’s integrity or him continuing to be a good Samaritan, but you know how the media sees things in a variety of lights trying to find reasons why someone did what.

I’d have to try to keep calm when the news channels would try to link my father to the dirty games of politics and other disturbing happenings. I am sure if that would be the case, I’d be more regular with yoga for the sheer rise in the need to de-stress than it is now. There would be a battalion of helpers at home, but our morning cup of tea would continue to be made by me, for my family loves it that way.

My visits to the gym or for a jog would have bodyguards accompanying me to ruin the blissful feeling of being on my own, giggling when I see a puppy roll in the dew soaked lawn or a cow mooing joyfully for there aren’t any vehicles on the road to block her way. But, it wouldn’t be all dull for you never know, a bodyguard could change the world you live in, if he is something like Lovely Singh (Salman Khan in the movie Bodyguard).

Leaving the lighter notes aside, I realised that it actually would have been fantastic to have my father hold a position of power in the government.  It’ll help make all the dreams we share while discussing the newspaper over the breakfast table see the light of possibility of the change actually happening. I am sure, all the solutions we have been thinking of fighting inflation, corruption, concerns about security of women, tackling issues with our neighboring countries, terrorism, dealing with captured terrorists and many more, would at least have a way of reaching the law makers. I am aware that it wouldn’t be so straightforward, but still a way would exist, after all the politicians are the only people with the right to decide in our democracy.

From my pet dog to my daily routine, from my hair stylist to the tailor all would find a spot in the media. I wouldn’t have to bother burning the night oil, toiling to make it through the competitive exams for just a mention of my father’s name would do the trick. Graduating through ace educational institutes would be a cakewalk. Vacations would mean international locations, no worrying about the IRCTC site ever loading for all travelling would be by air.  No need to fight with the local sabziwala over the complimentary ‘dhania – mirchi’,  to no sweating in the Sun to lodge complaints about power troubles in our society, for the basic utilities would be free, unlimited and paid for by the taxpayers of our dear country.

There would be a big mansion to be called my home. The life of a princess I often read about in the page 3 columns would unfold, making me the talk of the college, university & every occasion I happened to be a part of. Getting VIP passes for the IPL matches to tickets for the premier shows of Shahrukh Khan’s movies would have been a breeze. My closet would have dresses, shoes and accessories in the range of number of hair on my scalp. I’d never be short of friends to hang out with, no issues of security even in the wee hours of the night for I’d always have a bodyguard to take care.

Just as my dream was gliding through the pinkest patch of never ending delight, suddenly a thought rose like a soap bubble. How could it be, that a position of power only be a bed of roses without thorns? Given the political scenario and the colossal power the politicians harbour in our country, I had to really think deep as to what could I possibly be missing out on.

I didn’t have to to look too far for I could imagine, being a politician my father wouldn’t be the happy common man that he has enjoyed being all his life. He’d be busy either attending meetings, trying to make his noble ideas heard or fighting back the swarm of corrupt people who would make his very survival tougher by the minute. The stress that kind of a situation would bring along, is too much a cost to bear for the goodness or say luxury I could possibly enjoy being a politician’s daughter. But, the call of the hour is, someone will have to make a move, take an initiative to bring about the change. we just can’t lead selfish lives trying to push responsibilities over to others.

No doubt, we would always be surrounded by humble appearing, power-fearing, soft-spoken people, but finding true love or true friendship in this ‘driven by selfish needs’ world would be comparable to finding a bottle with a genie.

I’d have the luxury to be driven around in chauffer driven cars, with no worry of what the petrol costed, I would have unlimited access to the cooking gas, no need to worry about how many days my cylinder lasts, no worry of litter and garbage around my home, the roads around the house would be smoother than the freshly buttered toast.

I was struggling to make a pick. Whether to let my father be a politician for the good of our country as an honest leader who would represent the common man, as against a man who suddenly earns the ticket to lead a reckless, luxurious life sponsored by the country’s taxpayers.

My dilemma ended with a jolt when my mother almost yelled saying, “It’s already half past eight and you are getting late for the job interview. Wake up, I won’t come to wake you the tenth time”

Oh well, time to jump on the bandwagon of being the ordinary woman chasing a job. Thinking about my last night’s dream and being forced to get up for an interview, my verdict is, no harm if my dad opts to be a politician, at least I’ll get to sleep without having to sacrifice my beauty sleep worrying for a job.

This post is written for the Weekend Contest in association with Shoes of The Dead at BlogAdda.com.