Being Young

“The creative adult is the child who survived,” said U. LeGuin.
I have heard of one too many people, who dreamed of being someone, but ended up being someone worlds apart. However prestigious their occupations may be, they always stand a pedestal below the person they had dreamed of becoming. When young, the harsh truths of reality did nothing to distort their dreams. The force of their passion and the untainted youth in their hearts traversed the longest miles. There was only one goal: to make themselves happy.
On growing up, they settled for a life which was quite all right. The difference between the pedestal they dreamed of standing on, and the pedestal they did stand on, is one word – bravery.
When we start to grow up, we realize that there are one too many dictators, trying to lock the doors to the frivolity of youth. They are overpowering. They have created a rule book, where certain choices in life ensure certain certainties. The ones who can look through the unorthodox mindsets of those dictators find that they are as tasty as a spiceless broth, but they can fill the stomach.
Some people do not find a full stomach enough. They want taste, they want flavours. They want to break down the walls of a biased mind and race out into the colourful, limitless gardens of their dreams and ambitions. They know that one day, these dictators will cease to make the choices for them, one day there will come a time when they have to make their decisions themselves. At such a time, they will find themselves alone, lacking a vision, haunted by the mistakes they made. At that time, it might be too late to walk into the garland of their passion, because the greenery might die, tired of waiting for the blind victim of society to finally wake up.
There is a lot to be learned from one’s childhood. A child dreamed because she was ignorant of the fangs of the heinous world. An adult should dream because she is undaunted by the fangs of the heinous world. However, we should continue dreaming. When we do grow up, and leave behind the sweet old days, let there be one thread connecting the adult you and the child you – a thread of a common ambition, and a thread of the spirit of dreaming. 


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