The dream of a “someday” can be pretty unsettling and unnerving, even though it can give the feeling of the future holding promises of some sort. That whatever cannot be done in the now, can be done at some point of time later in one’s life. Since childhood, I have nurtured four such dreams.
One, of having a beach-facing quaint little house with a patch of garden and red fence. Yes, very Enid Blytonish I know – but I guess its one of the ‘occupational hazards’ of reading her books in one’s adolescent years.
Second, of either being a professional (jazz) dancer or writer (if the New Yorker would hire me, I would stop dreaming for a while).
Third, of earning a living through a cafe cum bookshop. This one has fed on Parisien fantasies for long.
Fourth, that whenever me, myself and my lovely solitude get tired of each other – I have enough lucre to go toodling across the world.
Yes, the ‘solitude’ part kind of preempts that I would be winding up alone. But strangely enough, even though I love companionship, the sustainability rate of it has never been too great. So at a quarter-life crisis point of my life, I am not drowning myself in any romantic illusions, but just trying to pray and hope for the other dreams to come true instead of this one.
When the banalities of life begin to creep upon you and unknowingly stifle is when you realize that the best escape is to dream, pray and work hard for those “oh-how-silly” dreams to come true. Steadily tapping away clickety-clack on my laptop day-after-day churning out “deliverables” for the client – I often look out of the huge glass bay windows of our office, and look at the concrete mass below me. The colors seem to have lost their individuality in the construction drive that seem to hold the city I live in, in a steady vice-like grip.
The only time I cheerfully step out of office is when it suddenly begins to pour, taking me completely by surprise. There’s something about rain that really connects with me, and makes me feel lighter, almost instantly. No amount of poetry out there through the ages seems to have done justice to the beauty of rain.
When mundane life begins to take root at your base and crawl up your foundations – is when the people around begin to matter the most.
When you don’t learn lessons enough from your own trials and tribulations – you can always look around and feel astounded. In the past eight months or so, I literally began to become a detached observer of the cycle of life. I saw my friend become a mother, and had no words when I held her baby. I have known her since school, and have seen her through various crazy phases in her life. But seeing her as a mother, made me feel proud for many reasons. I also saw another friend lose his mother, due to medical negligence, and the hate for hospital administrations, laws, policies, and everything that makes it a institution not working for the people anymore, returned all at once. I saw two more friends get married against all sorts of odds facing them – and glowing at their weddings with the contentment of it all. Another one got divorced, and moved cities to begin life anew.
Each and every time, I met one of them, and heard them speak – I felt a number of emotions, but more than anything else, I felt humbled. Humbled at the thought that life has so much to offer, and gives us so much everyday, and yet within moments it can change a lot for you. It can change the way you looked at life itself till now…it can change how you are going to be in the future…forces and dynamics around you sometimes end up exerting an undefinable force of influence that can mold or shape your life in ways that you had never thought or planned. And we are left with no choice, but one. To take what we have, and make the best of it.
We always have the option of looking over our shoulders nostalgically towards what could have been. But how do we know, for sure, that what we missed in the past, can never happen in the future again?
And hence, if one dream crashes with a deafening, bone-chilling thud – you can always dream up four more.
And dream of “somedays”, just so that you can appreciate life a little more than we end up doing.