First things first. The title was inspired from a film. I thought it would be apt for this post. The main source of inspiration for this post was a friend of mine. She said she loved to watch the sunrise, and I had asked her to write her feelings after watching it. It was also at the same time that a few of my friends have been depressed about their future. I then thought it is not a bad idea to transform my thoughts into words, and the outcome was this post.
Requiem for a Dream
It has been a long time since I’ve seen the sunrise. I last remember having bothered to wake up so early in the morning when I was in primary school. I have metamorphosed a lot since then. My priorities, my tastes and my interests have taken up a new dimension. As a kid, it was almost a part of my daily routine to wake up at cockcrow and watch the orange spread in the azure. At this point, I can vividly recall instances when I’ve cried for not being able to watch the ecstatic sight.
Today, at sunup, as I stood in the balcony, I was breath-taken for a couple of moments. My thoughts travelled with the rays of the sun. My mind left my body for a while, and it had reached up to the distant horizons. I was in what I call a turbulent state of mind. Thoughts that disturb the students of the present day academia have been running tempestuously within my mind. I could relate to my friends who have had similar experiences of riotous thoughts running in their minds. The cause may be either the stringent competition in their respective fields, or it may be due to their own complexities.
In almost an hour long battle within myself, I had travelled to a dreamland, a decade ahead. I saw myself in an authoritative position, commanding respect from my colleagues, and friends. I lived in an extravagant bungalow and lead nothing less than a prodigal life. Within a few seconds, I travelled to another destination where I found myself amidst the poor and the needy. Leading an austere life, I worked for them, and the problems prevailing in my motherland. It was a life of intense pressure and immense pleasure.
Soon, I journeyed back for eight years, and I found myself at the convocation. I could see the happiness in my parents’ eyes, and appreciation in my teachers’ hearts. I was showered with praises and blessings. It was a moment I could never possibly forget in my lifetime. I walked up the stage to receive the honors’. Seconds later, I sped fast to tear land. I sat alone, in a room, in complete darkness. I was in uncontrollable sobs, and there was nobody to console me. My parents’ were in tears, and I realized I’ve lost. I failed miserably, and I was in a slump. My heart skipped a beat or two, and the impact was sufficient to transport me back by a year.
I was glued to a few voluminous text books, burning the midnight oil. It must be the day before the exam, or may be even days or months before the examinations. It was something I had always wanted to be- studious, serious and sincere, yet I know I can never be. It must be this factor that had deported me back to reality.
I’m a student, fun loving and irresponsible; irregular and ignorant. I’m a son, playful and loving. I’m a friend, irritating and caring. I am a teen, confused- about my dreams and aspirations; worried- about my future and personality; and concerned- about my friends and family. I’m a teen, perplexed, lazy, and ambitious.
I wiped a tear or two that have rolled down to my cheek and soon found myself in the stop, waiting for the bus to arrive. I had put aside the stormy dream, and resolved to complete the record.
I have hurdles to jump over, and obstacles to avoid. I have promises to keep, and I have miles to travel before I sleep…