Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Death of a Dream
The warrior unwound bow and rested quiver of arrows with support of trunk of a tree. As he pitched his tent, the day that passed, flashed in front of his eyes. The day was the day, when a dream had died. In corner of his eyes, he could see the funeral pyre on which he had set the dead dream to fire. The heat waves from the pyre blew across his face and reminded him of the warm tears he had wept as the fire embraced the dream.
The dream was so very special to him, he had seen it conceive, grow, take shape in nurturing playground of his thoughts. All the while the dream lived; he had spent many a anxious moments, sometimes days and nights, wondering about the future of the dream. The death of the dream had lain to rest all of them.
As he spread his bedding on the hard ground, his thoughts took him to other dreams he had dreamt before, some had blossomed into reality and some withered like the one burning on the pyre. Although he had lost something very dear to his heart, his heart was at peace.
He asked his heart, “Why you are so calm, aren’t you sad at the loss of something so very dear?”
The heart replied, “You have been a constant companion, since my first beat, you and I have shared so many emotions together, that I have lost count of all the joys, sorrows, hopes and anxieties!! We have witness together many a successes and losses. We have watched together; when many a dreams became reality and some died their deaths. It’s true that today is the first time I am relaxed and at peace though I have lost something very close. The reason is, this is the first time when you have shown courage to face the loss, the courage to set up the pyre and lay down the remains of the lovely dream on it and then set it to fire. Before this you were always inconsolable and dragged the lifeless form on your shoulders in false hopes that those dreams would revive. All that you ended up was more sorrow. It was that which used to make me anxious and sad. Today I am at peace to see you at peace.”
With that conversation the warrior drifted to sleep. As the sleep took over he made a mental note of a frangipani tree fencing the funeral ground. The dream that died would be left as ashes. Its beauty and it virtues would be in the ashes he was sure.
He planned to put the ashes into the roots of the Frangipani tree and let the dream nurture the flowers of its virtue....
I
The warrior unwound bow and rested quiver of arrows with support of trunk of a tree. As he pitched his tent, the day that passed, flashed in front of his eyes. The day was the day, when a dream had died. In corner of his eyes, he could see the funeral pyre on which he had set the dead dream to fire. The heat waves from the pyre blew across his face and reminded him of the warm tears he had wept as the fire embraced the dream.
The dream was so very special to him, he had seen it conceive, grow, take shape in nurturing playground of his thoughts. All the while the dream lived; he had spent many a anxious moments, sometimes days and nights, wondering about the future of the dream. The death of the dream had lain to rest all of them.
As he spread his bedding on the hard ground, his thoughts took him to other dreams he had dreamt before, some had blossomed into reality and some withered like the one burning on the pyre. Although he had lost something very dear to his heart, his heart was at peace.
He asked his heart, “Why you are so calm, aren’t you sad at the loss of something so very dear?”
The heart replied, “You have been a constant companion, since my first beat, you and I have shared so many emotions together, that I have lost count of all the joys, sorrows, hopes and anxieties!! We have witness together many a successes and losses. We have watched together; when many a dreams became reality and some died their deaths. It’s true that today is the first time I am relaxed and at peace though I have lost something very close. The reason is, this is the first time when you have shown courage to face the loss, the courage to set up the pyre and lay down the remains of the lovely dream on it and then set it to fire. Before this you were always inconsolable and dragged the lifeless form on your shoulders in false hopes that those dreams would revive. All that you ended up was more sorrow. It was that which used to make me anxious and sad. Today I am at peace to see you at peace.”
With that conversation the warrior drifted to sleep. As the sleep took over he made a mental note of a frangipani tree fencing the funeral ground. The dream that died would be left as ashes. Its beauty and it virtues would be in the ashes he was sure.
He planned to put the ashes into the roots of the Frangipani tree and let the dream nurture the flowers of its virtue....
I
Unsui 4:40 PM
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