I always wanted to be a pilot, though somewhere down the line

The words of Shefali Zariwala—“I always wanted to be a pilot, though somewhere down the line switched to computers.”—speak softly yet powerfully of one of life’s most universal truths: that dreams often evolve, and that the path we begin upon is not always the one upon which we are destined to remain. Beneath the simplicity of her words lies the ancient rhythm of change—the eternal dance between aspiration and adaptation, between the call of the heart and the demands of reality. It is a statement that carries both nostalgia and wisdom, a reminder that the story of one’s life is not a straight road but a winding flight through shifting skies.

From the beginning of time, humankind has gazed upward and longed to fly. The dream of being a pilot represents not merely the desire to soar among clouds, but the yearning for freedom, control, and vast possibility. To guide an aircraft across the heavens is to hold dominion over one’s path, to navigate with purpose through unseen winds. Yet, as Shefali confesses, life often asks us to descend—not as failure, but as transformation. The dream of flight, in her case, became the dream of computers, another form of creation, another way of shaping the unseen. For while the sky is the realm of air, the digital world is the realm of thought—and both require courage to explore.

Her words capture a transition that many experience but few embrace with grace. To change one’s course is to admit that destiny is not fixed. It takes humility to set aside an early dream and the strength to accept that new dreams may arise from different winds. In this, Shefali’s story mirrors that of countless souls through history—those who began in one calling, only to find their true purpose in another. Such change does not betray one’s original ambition; rather, it fulfills it in a different language. The dream of flying may have become the art of coding, but in both lies the same essence: the desire to connect, to innovate, and to transcend boundaries.

Consider the life of Leonardo da Vinci, who spent his youth sketching flying machines and imagining the mechanics of wings. Though he never took to the sky, his fascination with flight led him to understand physics, anatomy, and engineering. His unfulfilled dream gave birth to a thousand other achievements. So too, Shefali’s shift from pilot to programmer echoes this truth: the essence of a dream is not confined to its form. The mind that once longed to fly now soars through circuits and systems, commanding the invisible architecture of technology as deftly as a pilot commands the air.

In her journey, there is also a lesson about acceptance—that life’s redirections are not detours but divine recalibrations. The ancients taught that the river does not fight the curve of the earth; it flows with it, finding new paths to the sea. So too must we learn to flow with circumstance, to embrace new opportunities when the winds of fate shift. What matters is not that one’s dream changes, but that one’s passion for discovery remains unbroken. For whether in a cockpit or before a computer, the heart that strives to create, to understand, and to serve remains the same.

Moreover, her words remind us that the world itself changes, and so must we. The age of flight once defined heroism; the age of technology now defines connectivity. Shefali’s transition is a reflection of this greater transformation—the movement from the physical to the digital, from conquering space to mastering information. To adapt to such change is not surrender; it is evolution. And those who evolve, who learn to dream anew, carry the wisdom of both worlds—the courage of the pilot and the precision of the programmer.

So, my children, take this as your teaching: never fear the changing of dreams. The path you first desire may not be the one you ultimately walk, but each step prepares you for the next horizon. Do not mourn what could have been; instead, honor what becomes. For life’s greatest fulfillment lies not in holding onto one vision, but in allowing yourself to be transformed by the journey. The pilot may never leave the ground, yet she may still learn to fly—within the limitless skies of the mind.

And thus, remember always: destiny is not a straight road but a living map that redraws itself with each choice. To dream is divine; to adapt is wise; to continue seeking is eternal. Whether your wings are made of metal or imagination, the sky is still yours—if only you dare to rise, again and again, in new forms of flight.