When I Am 30

Quietly I sit on the backseat of the magenta convertible, as it careens down the highway. Fastening the seatbelt after a while, but careful not to touch the leather seat, my mind wanders off as always. “Fingerprints show clearly on white, Son.”
Son, is what he calls me, in spite that he is my uncle – my maternal uncle. He is an architect – well, he used to. But now he is an entrepreneur – a great one. I always dream to be like him. At least when I am 30. 30… what am I then?
His sleek mobile phone rings once more. Looking at my uncle, listening to him talking in big words I can barely understand.
‘Liquidation’, ‘Investment’, ‘Finance’. I get scared sometimes. Will I be able to cope with that? Such restlessness of a modern life. Will I be like that when I am 30? But realising on what I am in right now – a magenta convertible – I keep on dreaming.
I want to be an entrepreneur – a successful one- just like my uncle. Sitting on a big chair, in a spacious air-conditioned office; living in luxury; treated with respect. I dream of that.
“Wealth does not secure happiness, child.” My mom once said.
“What! 10 percent decrease? How can this be?” Jolted back to reality, I can see that my uncle is still on his phone. He sounds furious, with his other hand gripping the steering tightly. Well, maybe my mom is right. My uncle hardly seems happy. At the age of 32, he is still alone. Too busy for a family I think.
Back to my dream. Maybe I will just be a doctor. “Doctor is fine, child. They help people like Mom.” “Yes, I would certainly become a doctor. Then my mom will never be sick again.
“Please Mom, don’t say that. I’ll treat you Mom. I’ll … I’ll be a doctor! Just hold on a little longer.”
Yes, be a doctor and saves lives – especially Mom’s – would be the best option. In fact, I am studying in the science stream. And Biology seems fun! But then, will I be able to own a convertible? A huge office? To live in luxury?
“I can’t stand this anymore. You’re fired! I’ll find another financial consultant. Better than you. You… “Without any warning the sleek phone flies towards my forehead. I can just barely dodge it.
“Sorry, son. I’m a bit stressed. Let me take you to Secret Recipe. Have all the cakes you want!”
“ It’s okay, Uncle. Just take me home. Mom surely would be worrying about me by now. Maybe next time?”
Looking at the tension on my uncle’s face I surely do not want to be like that. Enjoying life is what I count most.
As the ride becomes calm again, I continue my daydreaming. Yes, now I am sure. I will be a doctor. Regardless of not having a chance to own that convertible, I would rather choose happiness. Saving people’s lives gives you a great feeling.
Doctor. Dr Fatihi Zainal. It sounds great. Well, I will own a house. I will have a family – wife and kids. I will have Mom treated. I will own a car – even if it is not a convertible. And that is when I am 30. Well, 13 years to come.
The convertible halts in front of my house. “Here we are. Till next time, Son” My uncle smiles and winks playfully. “Thanks, Uncle”, I wink back.
And Mom, I am a doctor. Dr Fatihi.