Dreambuster

For me at least, dreams, are here to stay. I am a voracious dreamer. When I was younger, I had dreams of cruising through the streets leaving only a trail of smoke behind. Like my favorite superhero, I wanted to swish past people before they could even bat their eyelids. Pestered Dad for a flashy bike and even tried being a Godspeed. It was all crash and burn. That was my first encounter with this horrible place fondly called the hospital. Tears were shed. Lectures were there. Only one question kept bothering me whether my bike was okay or would it be stashed away to some remote island? I feared that I won't be able to ride it again, let alone speed it ! I didn't let the pain of my bruises silence my requests. Although initially nothing seemed to cut ice with my seemingly stern father, I knew deep down that he was always prone to mellow if I kept placating him. While I was recuperating, I would limp daily to the garage to have a look at my bike. With it being still and no key in the ignition, I would turn the full accelerator, feel its clutch , et al. With great difficulty , I would somehow manage to sit on it and fathom myself heading along some scenic highway.

When you are in those years, the high-decibel..super speed...adrenaline rush years... you dream incessantly. Deep within everyone knows that some won't fruitify. Some would require an extraordinary play of luck. Some would need an insane amount of will-power and resilience on our part to be realised. Nevertheless, we dream. The mechanism of dreams is so simple. You have time. You have desire. You have innate and acquired talents. You have your cordon of well-wishers who want you to be someone. You have this heart that keeps telling you that these guys deserve to have their faith rewarded. You make plans. You assess if you can really get there. You overestimate your capabilities or most of the time you downplay yourself. You see these people on the streets, sometimes seemingly mediocre ones, leading a flashy life. You browse the newspapers to read the success stories. You count the number of productive years you have. And then you start to dream. Then situations are there. Favorable ones give you that nudge to pursue the whole catalogue with even more ferocity. Unfavorable, disatrous ones unsettle you and constantly provoke you to give up and be a mute acceptor of make-believe reality. If everything is so chalked out- why have we never been able to tame the frustrations that rise after every little deadlock that befalls us? Why a split second moment of success makes us so complacent that we chuck out all our ethics and gorge on poor blokes. Dreams are never bad. It is just that tapped intoxication of their realisation that makes Frankensteins out of us.

Pikku is 17. He looks rattled. Dreams-eh! What is there to life? Bike-ah well!.. a group to hang out with, get in a cool college, grab a job and drive sleek cars. The route always looks easy..well at least before you take your backpack and start travelling on it. Sometimes you have to do this hitchhiking-- and tell you what--luck entertains a few travellers out there.

It's certain that some of your dreams won't ever come true. They were chimerical-may be, in the first place. Some of them would be pretty much realisable but you would goof up and curse yourself for it all your life. Some around you would become successful before you have even taken that first sip of happiness. People would be behind you-always- rooting for your downfall--and some fervently praying for you to succeed. It is these two kind of people who would egg you on to perform. Success is an esoteric territory. Once you get there, life won't really be a cakewalk. You might still screw things up for yourself.

Keep it simple. Take one dream-at a time. Give it your life-if it takes. Savor the outcome. Done-or not done- try to assimilate as much thrill as possible from the challenge that it poses to you. Look at me. I had this slew of dreams to start with. Screwed some of them. Some turned out to be true in the long run. Right now, I have this recurring dream of dying peacefully- night after night. With content. With loved ones all around me. With every one of you -known or unknown- forgiving me for whatever wrong I might have done to you in my blind dream-chase.

There is another dream --juxtaposed this one. Of surviving all this ordeal and going on for another 50 years:p ....Silly, haan?

P.S :: Prianca, don't give up on your dreams , please.

PLP, Kudos! You always remind me of my doggedness. Your indomitable will, the capacity to overcome the gloomy phases of your life is something I adore. With all my heart, I wish I could absorb some of it. How easy it would have been to endure all this, then?