August 11, 2007

Prisoner of Dreams

We are all prisoner of our dreams. Sitting at a park's bench, the fence separated us from the Ocean. We are happy sitting on this side, happy to keep away from the waves and face the music.

"It all started a few years back, when the aircraft pilot died. In fact, a lot of pilots die at a very young age. Even before they are eligible for a two-wheeler's driving license. Then there was the architect who wanted to design a new city. He died rather late, at an age of fifteen. The fear of blood killed the doctor at almost the same time. And now, a year later, the cricketer joined them in the heaven. The increasing burden of academics were taking its toll on my dreams and the board exams were now only a couple of months away. The matter was worsened by the team paceman, Raju, whose full pitched ball hit me on my right foot and barred me from playing for a few weeks. I never knew that was the end of it all. The cricketer died though the game lived on inside me."

Khawahishen Kaisi Kaisi

Today was a lazy day for me. Got up very late in the morning, after a long night. Went to a friend's house yesterday to have a long night chat session, cut short by circumstances. Returned back, only to feel like going out again. And then I was at the nearby ground, at 4 AM in the morning, getting drenched in the rain. It was simply awesome.

Went to the ground again in the afternoon today. The playgrounds make me wish I were good at sports. The scene of the empty stadium, with its flood lights on, and me standing in the middle, still come in my dreams. I would learn one outdoor sport someday. Mostly on my return to India, would try my hand at tennis.