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..Pages that turned Yellow!

All these years, life passed on by my side, and I was too busy in collecting my dreams in a chocolate box. The dreams I have always loved; the dreams that kissed my eye-lids; the dreams, which gave my eyes that hint of glitter. I was termed as ‘immature’ too often, but it did not matter much during those days. It doesn’t matter even now. After all, maturity and immaturity are too perceptional words to cite out a relationship in-between. I should better stay away from the logics, as I always prefer.

Our minds are blocked by the worldly logics, and out of those, not even half reach up to that level of relevance. Still a majority of people just go in sync with them. Probably they are too busy with their “settling them in” mode, or are too scared of taking risks. I fell under the category of the rest of the halves, who believed in finding out the entire "Why’s” of the world, and thus stressing more upon “Why not’s.”

I believed in my dreams, no matter how insane they may sound, and always knew, if it can strike our minds, there is a way somewhere that it can reach up to the real people. “Doing the different won’t take you anywhere”, were the routine statements that reached my ears every now and then. But it was that phase of my growing up, when a “No” triggered up my intentions of moving forward with the idea. The times when a pen and my diary were always there to increase the volume of all the questions that struck my mind.

Being grown up in a family where my opinions were respectfully accepted gave me the freedom to pen down all the absurd ideas. I still remember recollecting those diary entries at the end of each year and feeling blessed or otherwise. And thus, I kept on making resolutions of making my coming year better.

And during all this course of Pen-Paper events, I have learnt one thing for sure, “Life moves on”. It did move for me but what remained as my life partners are that silly pen and that insane paper. I am sure these would remain with me till ashes.




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