Illegitimi non carborundum

It’s that kind of dream where you wake up crying, the magnanimity of loss is too overwhelming and you just can’t contain it. And after a second or two, a consolation of reality dawns upon you. It was just a dream, thank God. He saw his mother dead in his dreams and he was all shattered. A nightmare.
Sometimes he thought was this his ability or inability to cope with his mind. Yes, he had an enhanced receptor at his side, but then he also needed a deciphering manual for that. Dreams. He realized the power of dreams and was the one who never let a signal fade away.

He moved around to do his usual chores but there was something brewing in his subconscious memory. He felt now capable enough to move to next level, where he should now try to be first person instead of being a mere third person spectator. But this thing he had never tried before, may be a recent Hollywood flick burned a question mark in his mind’s board. Why can’t I talk to my projections, maybe I am already talking but then I need to be a more solid talkative dreamer. Lucid dreaming, he knew about the word from another flick based on lucid dreaming concept. And when he dozed off for few moments, an evening siesta or a power nap, he did a bit of lucid dreaming. But a full frontal with that, this needs something.

He looked around to search for friends or acquaintance with whom he can discuss this, but as expected there were none, Most of them were slithering in corporate gutters of some MNCs. The better the name/fame, better the stench. Others were fighting to get into big guns of education, few satisfied with the ivies of India, other building up their so called profile for the international varsity. Few were too engrossed with themselves, even to think of these things. Others too happy with their beaus and peeps. He hated his position, of being out of this crowd, of trying to merge with this faceless crowd donning formals. He was afraid of losing his identity in this mage. It was a dumb charade game, he had to play with himself to find what his self was up to. He silently smirked at this comparison. Brilliant wasn’t it?

He was a dreamer, he dreamt of gondolas and pyramids and ghats. He dreamt of French Riviera and himalyan untouched land. Those unimaginable verdant greens. He dreamt of deep sea and the glory of it. The purest of turquoise blue. He wanted to climb Kilimanjaro and everest.
He questioned his religion and desperately yearned for tete-a-tete with god. He preferred a free bird if you call him so. His heart wanted to feel the sense with which humans were endowned. That one thing that made creator to think, what can I put into it to make it one of the best creation. Yes he would have marveled at his work. Yes he still marvels at this avant garde of his.

The boy felt a surge to get into a groove where he can get this marvelous thing back into the heart of mankind. That one thing which was losing its essence, the thing which was lost in layers as a man grew. He wanted to feel the common chord that ran through this planet. The thing that made hearts beat, and wind flutter. He knew his destiny lied in this, he was meant to do this and travel places and have experiences which were never experienced before.

He wanted to quench his travel lust, in the corridors of Angor Vat, feel the breeze in courtyard of Harvard, the feel of business suit at wall street, the rustic of Africa, civilization of Europe and see the earth from space. That one inc. that will be connecting millions and millions, that one inc. that will save that original spirit.

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