Show me someone who doesn’t want to make their parents proud and I’ll show you a liar. Or, worse, I’ll show you a weakling who shies from hardship. Or, even worse, a heartless, ungrateful bastard. For it is a truth secretly whispered that, when parents bring a baby into their home for the first time, and the sleepless nights start, and the crying turns to howling for hours on end, one question keeps gnawing at their minds: Why did we do this to ourselves?
Strange as it may sound, no one puts someone else before themselves without expecting something in return. And what better way to make it up to one’s parents than to say one day: ‘Parents, your sacrifices were not for naught. I’ll make you proud.’
Such is the case with me. I can’t deny the fact that from an early age I had been burning with desire…
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