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"I read somewhere once that what if we get up one day and realise that all of what we think is reality is actually a dream. While it was written in jest, it made me think. Maybe, what is a dream for us is someone's reality because it is a happier space which is enlivening."
“I read somewhere once that what if we get up one day and realise that all of what we think is reality is actually a dream. While it was written in jest, it made me think. Maybe, what is a dream for us is someone’s reality because it is a happier space which is enlivening.”
The aureate sunbeams percolate through my pores, Unlocking my shut eyes as the wonted dawn beckons; The quivering and weary lashes grapple and stutter, As they endeavour to make way for vision in the dungeon.
It is dim with speckles of light lurking in the shadows, My body manoeuvres its way through each curve and lane; Comfortable in the darkness, so familiar and intimate, The unilluminated surrounding is in kinship with my pain.
Suddenly there is a flash of light, unforeseen and jarring. Alluring me into a deceptive, effulgent illusion; I scream, I panic, I turn around to escape, Taking to my heels, till I fade into oblivion.
I am back to that caliginous space, The one that I have embraced and known; Dodging the perfidious, dazzling luminosity, I am blissful in my desolate, gloomy zone.
The night descends on the horizon, still and mute; I slip into slumber and awaken in the realms of fantasy. A surge of exuberance proliferates within me, Vivifying my soul as I live my glittering reality.
Don’t tell me that my truth is a dream, Don’t tell me that my bright is a fallacy; Don’t push me into obscure apertures, Let me decide my light, my reality.
Author’s Note: I read somewhere once that what if we get up one day and realise that all of what we think is reality is actually a dream. While it was written in jest, it made me think. Maybe, what is a dream for us is someone’s reality because it is a happier space which is enlivening. Who are we to define it for anyone? Maybe what is our light during the day time is someone’s darkness and their dreams are what brightens their world. The darkness they are in becomes comfortable and maybe they do not wish to see the light we force on them. We decide our light, our reality.
First published here.
Picture credit: Yohann Lc
Multiple award winning blogger, influencer, author, multi-faceted entrepreneur, creative writing mentor, choreographer, social activist and a wanderer at heart read more...
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UP Boards Topper Prachi Nigam was trolled on social media for her facial hair; our obsession with appearance is harsh on young minds.
Prachi Nigam’s photo has been doing the rounds on social media for the right reasons. Well, scratch that- I wish the above statement were true. This 15-year-old girl should ideally be revelling in her spectacular achievement of scoring a whopping 98.05% and topping her tenth-grade boards. But oddly enough, along with her marks, it’s something else that garners more attention – her facial hair.
While the trolls are driving themselves giddy by mocking this girl who hasn’t even completed her school yet, the ones who are taking her side are going one step ahead – they are sharing her photoshopped pictures, sans the facial hair, looking nothing less than a celebrity with captions saying – “Prachi Nigam, ten years later”.
Doctors have already diagnosed her with PCOD in their comments, based on photographic evidence. While we have names for people shamed for their weight – body shaming, for their skin colour- racism, for their age- age shaming, for being a female- sexism, this category of shaming where one faces criticism for their appearance has no name. With that, it also has zero shame attached to it.
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