I think, dreaming is beautiful. A lot of times you hear people tell you that it will lead you to live in the bubble that you create for yourself and separate you from the reality that life is. And what happens when it starts to evaporate in front of your eyes? It breaks you, it rips your veins from your body and turns you into this lifeless puddle of tears saltier than the sea.
It kills you, they say, but they forget the fact that those very dreams were the elements that were keeping you alive. Every day you woke up to fulfil them. Everyday you worked and prayed for its accomplishment or to move a tiny atomic step closer to its achievement. It’s weird, you know, to love an idea of your fragment of imagination that deeply. It’s creepy how an idea practically becomes your life. Your every step, every movement is guided by that one dream in your head. And righty so, it messes you up. Sometimes it’s just a cluttering shamble of disarrayed havoc that blurs your visions. It is the misty air of a dark winter morning that makes it difficult for you to walk. It is the scorching heat of the sun that makes it almost impossible for you to walk down the street without closing your eyes.
But sometimes it’s the only thing that keeps you going.
Flashback: At the beginning of 2015, I was at an interview and the interviewer asked me if I have always wanted to study journalism. I said, “No, I didn’t. I wanted to be a doctor but realized in class 11 that science is too troublesome a subject for me.”
He replied, “So you just let go of your dream once you reasoned that it’s hard to accomplish?”
An otherwise inquisitive person, I didn’t have a reply to that particular question.
I didn’t know what to say because at that time, I had given up on my dream and there was no way to reclaim it. I was scared, quiet, reserved and had my inhibitions. It’s sad to see yourself in that sorry state. It’s possibly the worst thing you can do, but you do it anyway. I have a theory (a way to make myself feel less guilty). The theory states that I gave up because I didn’t get the motivation I needed. This happened because I was looking up to other people to tell me to go for it, to pursue it. I was waiting and when I didn’t hear the words, “You can do it”, I convinced myself that I cannot do it.
But then there comes a time when someone pours a bucket of ice cold water and you are drenched in self-loathe and guilt for being so weak and spineless so as to let go of your dream and become the subdued creature that you shouldn’t have been.
Present: This incident popped in my head a few nights back. So, I was lying on my bed trying to recall the monumental events of my life. The times I grabbed the opportunities knocking at my door and the times when I let it pass without batting an eye. One thought that dominated was how this past year has been life changing and transitional. Mental fights. Happiness. Sense of accomplishment. Jubilation. Break downs. Crying over things that might or might not happen. Each and every conceivable overwhelming emotions.
One such impactful event for me took place on the day I started this blog. It is probably the most important decision I have made till date. The circumstances under which I started this blog is not known to many and I will not divulge it too. But it means a lot to me.
I am known for forgetting birthdays (even my own), dates, phone numbers and everything else. I am also infamous in my family for being lazy. Point being, it was around this time that I started blogging (not sure of the date though, still waiting for Facebook to notify me under the ‘on this day’ section because I am too lazy to scroll down and check when I made my first post).
As I type this 30th post, I feel weird. Not bad weird, but a strange mixture of happiness, serenity and awkwardly bizarre weird.
How come that there are people who actually read this?
(the fact that I force them should not be of importance)
Where am I going with this?
What is the use of this?
There are so many times when questions arise, doubts seep in, encouragement vanishes. Then there is this tiny voice in my head that says, you do this because you love it.
Because this is your dream.
And that is all that matters.
I once had a dream, but there was no motivation. Not from the people I looked up to.
Now, at 20, I have realised that motivation doesn’t come from people around you. It comes from within.
At 20, I have realised that if you keep looking at your loved ones for a push, you will remain still, standing at that one place. At the end of that one cliff, afraid of a free fall.
At 20, I have realised that the plans you set for yourself might not be the same as the plans people expect from you. But that does not imply that you have to lose sight of your goals.
At 20, I have realised if there is anything more motivating than hearing, “You can do it” is saying, “I can do it”
At 20, I have realised that quitting is not an option.
Never has, never will be.
Ps. At 20, I have realised that I sound like 40.