You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one....

When the rains came pouring down like thick drops of blood on my midnight window pane, I was sitting on the same spot that I was glued to four hours back. It was long before evening when the sky had turned mischievously dark- the kind that warns you of a terrible storm coming your way and yet leaves you with the hope of a brighter after day. Because life is full of joys and sorrows, and sorrows predominating , you are left mightily perplexed as to what to expect of life. Once done with creating anecdotes, I looked out of my four storey window pane that displayed only dark pandemonium outside and I knew that it was time to philosophize. The six hundred page novel that I had daringly started on, lay dog eared at one end of the room. The empty glass that still possessed a few reminiscent drops of the soft drink that I had finished in one gulp lay just beside it. I hardly knew where my phone was. It had beeped with a low battery message the last time my mind had recognized it’s presence. I dodged a random guess that it might now be lying in some other end of the room, forsaken, lifeless and devoid of any hope. Not long back, when I had flung it across the marble floor, I had heard a slight crack which probably came from the screen. It was when I was running a wild trail of thoughts that I found myself sweating profusely- the way a man does on the eve of a major heart attack. I looked above my head instinctively and saw the fan hardly moving. That was the first feeling that my body had registered in the last few hours . when I say few: I don’t know what I mean. As I began to find a little life in the lifeless corpse I had concluded myself to be, I got up slowly – on unstable feet – the way a child does when he’s walking for the first time in his life and needs adult supervision. It, however, took hardly a few minutes to steady myself, or, at the least: balance myself on my toes. I stumbled across something heavy in the dark, still not sure when my footsteps would lead me. I groped in the dark for the switch that would illuminate my dark-as-a-tomb-room. After struggling for a minute and a half with it, I finally found heavy fortune. Looking at the dilapidated condition that my room was in, I sat down on the wooden chair that stood otherwise isolated at one end of the room. As my eyes scrutinized the mess that I had created for myself, it caught the size of the black cell phone that lay turned upside down, forsaken. i picked it up and gave it a fraction of a second of thought before switching it on and started to look for the charger.

The weather had had gotten a little better since the last time I remembered looking out. As I started cleaning the mess around me, my eyes fell on the printed page in black and white letters, which had effectively been the sole reason for all of this. On the other end of the table that stood beside me, there lay another similar piece of paper, in similar print. I picked up both, one at a time, having realized that I lacked the superpowers that a certain superman possessed. My eyes instinctively fell on the letters in bold which worked for the heading: “Subject: admission as senior intern, Media Institute, Gurgaon”

The other letter head was titled “ Engineering College, Mumbai”.

I dropped the two pages and picked up my phone which had been vibrating violently. A new text read: “I know you dream of becoming a very big journalist some day, one whom the world will know, but, well do understand that not all dreams are meant to be. Rather, certain things are better left as dreams”. A cold shiver ran down my spine. I read on :” You need not worry. I’ve sent in the application already. To Mumbai, which is. The college people called offering you a scholarship, too. I’m so proud of you. They’ve confirmed your interview next week. “ It was a long text. Probably the longest I'd received from Ma after the heated argument last week. Although I had little strength left in me, I read on. “ I would’ve called you myself. I thought better not to, given that you’re so perplexed about this. Journalism isn’t for you baby, do understand. Take care”.

I let go all that I had in my hand. In a slight daze, I looked up to discover that the storm had eased out a while back and that now, the trees shook their leaves less violently.

Somewhere, in some far away land, I could hear a vague sound reach my ears. Whether it was music or a loud scream, I couldn’t tell.





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