I am someone. One in whose life, “life” has got more stress to be cared for than anything else. Now you may think what the hell am speaking. I meant to say that to me life has got a better perspective to be looked upon than anything else, disregarding of the individual smaller things that in turn comprise life on a larger basis. Now again question arises, that what these “smaller” things are and why on earth are they “smaller”? So, time and space to speak deliberately and extensively. These smaller things are those things that we build up internally, our personality, our choices, our views, our philosophy to live life. And within this philosophy itself lies dreams, and hopes.
I was a bottom-dweller in the lands, as fishes are in a pond. But life was always a basket of dreams. I was an addict that time. And my addiction was dreaming. I dreamt in the night, in morning, and whenever I could get a single opportunity to get some private time for myself. To specify among all, my certification was in day-dreaming. I always dreamt of something better in life. And some of my dreams came true to its terms when I went to the highlands. Now I live in the foothills of mountains (well almost, I like to think myself that way), in the lap of nature, in serenity. Just thinking of this only I get a bliss of energy and happiness, and connect the chord instantly, the chord of satisfaction and warmth….amazing! So as speaking earlier, dreaming was always my forte. It was the only thing with which I had some heavenly connections. I could almost dream about anything on earth. Some gave me immense happiness, some excited me to the brim of my heart, and some shivered me to the spines in fear, I had them all. But among them all I loved those dreams that used to take me away from every homely matters, those which used to take me away to eternity. I used to travel extensively up and down on every places in india and abroad. I used to make every heaven my abode, I used to make every step of my journey something new to look upon. These were all in my dreams. And all of my dreams sort-of came true when I came here.
Saying specifically, I have a little cottage on the top of a certain hill in Darjeeling. A small one enough to home me and my books, my writing machine and my other belongings of a perfect bachelor life. I took it deliberately, ignoring other better options….
Now that was some serious basking of relentless and vivacious daydreams one could ever imagine of..won’t dream much..now back into the stern realities..
But I will make it the truth..oneday..
Now that was more of an article than a “story”, readers may think. But I can ask them a question. Can anyone define what a “short story” is? Can any creativity be defined? Even Tagore couldn’t give any adequate definition of it. So who we are in that perspective to measure upto it, isn’t it? This try of mine is completely upon that perspective. And above all, in case people give upon more on my adamance rather than neutral view to life, I have got something for them too. That this is “my story”, where the background vocalist (in case you didn’t earlier had a chance to get to know the role of a “vocalist” in print media) is me, and the protagonists of my story is none, but a whole world around me, and everything comprising of me, externally (rather,physically) or internally (rather,or better,mentally and philosophically). So, I think this was enough of explanation.
And more than enough of a dream to write something about dreams and hopes.
Starting off in a positive mood, I am, as of now, a pre-final year student of B.Tech in Siliguri Institute of Technology and in this blogspace my sole purpose is only to write my heart out. Not that I couldnt do the same if I were not here, but this time I have got the opportunity to speak up and write for something as huge in importance and elegance as the whole big world, I guess I would have been foolish enough if I didn’t take up this assignment. So,here I go, with my quartets and thoughtlets, and things that I just prefer to call “more than words”..
This guy has by now seen a lot in life. Life, as they, is unfathomable. He, hence, tries to keep things simple here. Books, music, photography. Dreams are just untrue realities.
‘Between The Lines’ is not a teenager anymore. He is the grown up guy with a silent crush for the girl he can’t muster the courage to approach, he is the quintessential literature addict, the guy who can’t sleep a single night without Pink Floyd or Radiohead in his ears (or head), the voracious reader – one with a day job. He turns to be batman by the night.
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