So I peeped out of the beige blinds of my room. I had almost forgotten the lush green world behind the white, wooden, and insipid window of my daily life! I could see it raining. I could see the people rushing towards a shelter. While I could also see a couple of children dancing there till their souls to drench. I thought of sitting in the window pane and look around for a while. I sat down with a mug of coffee and something just started feeling beautiful. Something very alright, very calm, very peaceful, very me! Suddenly everything was gone slow and steady. As if the time was paused to make my life resume.

From nowhere, I could hear the birds chirping. They seemed very close. I leaned to find them, and ah! They were there, caged. They were a couple of love birds. Bright yellow and lemon yellow. As fresh as their colours. As beautiful as their voice. As stuck as their caged life. I started observing ‘em. Could see how the female one had her own tantrums, and how the male one took efforts to make her mood. Also, I adored the kiss that they had after the fight. How beautiful was their world. As small as a cage, but as big as their dreams. Even they would have dreamt of building their own nest on their favourite tree. Maybe they would have planned to make the effort half and manage to make it all beautiful before the young one arrives. Maybe the male one would have imagined coming home to a very enthusiastic chirp of his kids and the caring eyes of his wife. How simple yet admirable. Everything just remained an. ‘if’ for them.

With a sigh I moved my eyes off them. Dreams are something which we leave but dreams don’t leave us. They are the dust from our eyelashes. The more we try to swipe them, the more they come back.

As I moved my sight a little farther, I could see the sea. The waves vigorous. The raindrops in a hustle to mingle with the sea. As I started following the the to and fro movement of the waves, it all seemed peaceful. That’s when I remembered a poetry from class two. It was about the dream of a dust particle. Funny, isn’t it? A dust particle, as minute as the needle point, having a dream. The dust particle narrated how he wanted to enter an oyster deep down the sea just to become a pearl one day.

That’s how we all have dreamt of something. Maybe a life, life not perfect, but a life where we are completing our dreams. Not just a life where we are settled, earning, happy and satisfied, but maybe a life where we actually living a life of our dreams. Maybe that’s the what we call perfect…

All when I was snuggled up with mixture of nostalgia and philosophy, a sudden practical awakening was made by the thunder which made me realise of all the responsibilities and promises that I had to keep in this real world.

Within a moment or two, I was all back here. How different are these two worlds! One frees us out of all logics and one holds us back. But maybe both are essential ones. Sometimes a talk to ourselves, the soothing raindrop sound, the green peaks, the clouds just make it all good for our soul. Sometimes this realisation for what we started, is good..!

Dreams are beautiful.

This way I got up from the window pane and have never closed the blind since that day. What could be more mesmerising than a view of my dreams, awaiting for me to accomplish them !

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