Life’s been good. And when life is good you tend to forget its ephemeral nature. You bate an eye and the moment is gone. Good times doesn’t last that long.
You have dreams. You dream because that’s what great litterateurs and movies teach you. That’s the whole point of having consciousness and consciously persuading a state of mind that’s both rational and yet accepting of spirituality.( I mean you didn’t turn out like the others of your class, you learned to question, to reject ideas that aren’t to your liking and form your own ideology. What do you call that state of mind in a word? Is there a word for it any language? May be there is.) Then you learn the price of dreaming.
Price of dreaming is too high. Most people can’t pay it. The novel you always wanted to write won’t be written because of the time it’ll cost you. The distant shores you wanted walk on will remain untrodden because you have anchored in a Bay which won’t let you go.
Sometimes it’s too damn frightening to dream too.
Everyday I walk the same road. I know my way. I know I’ll find a t junction and take the way right and walk by the park. I’ll feel the cold morning breeze and occasional warmth of the morning sun. People whom I’ll pass I know where they will be going. I don’t know them but at that moment on the road at 8 am well know each others destinations. We have left some place behind and going to some place. You can always tell if the place left behind is home or not when looking at the face of a morning commuter. Then I’ll reach the main road.
All these are too comforting to leave behind.