The Box full of dreams...

It happened on a clear starry night, while I was enjoying the lilting music created by the unruly waves against the sandy shore, in Goa. Couple of my friends were having an argument on whether the stars really govern our lives or destiny is what we make of it. The rationally irrational conversation slowly started heating up. By now I realized that my chances of enjoying a tranquil walk on the beach at the stroke of midnight seemed like a distant dream.

But then friend A said something that caught my attention. He said that someone asked him to collect energy in a box, so he can channelize it in the right way. I almost pinched myself to make sure that I heard it right…….collect energy in a box!!!! Last time I checked, boxes were used to collect candies. And then the thought struck me. The little angel of imagination in my mind did a happy flip and my mind carried me far far away from my friends, from the discussion and from the real world of sand, stars and sea.

My mind took me to my childhood room. I could see myself kneeling down beside my bed and looking under it for the Box. It was dark and musty in there.

The place smelt of old memories and happy childhood.

I moved the cartons filled with old text books, family albums and knick-knacks. The big bag with my old toys jingled somewhere in the corner as I ran my fingers over it. I kept dismantling the intricate cobwebs from the packages of my past and looked for the Box. It should be here somewhere….it’s here where I had kept it.

The sudden gleam caught my eyes.

I stopped and turned towards the corner of the bed. It was sitting there, poised and mystical, like the holy grail. I crawled my way inside and reached out for the Box. I held it, felt the warmth and let it seep inside me.

Once outside in the open air, I removed the layer of dust and set it on the desk. The intricate wood-work still fascinates me. It is a square wooden box with patterns on the surface. The pattern looks more like a puzzle to me….from a certain angle it looks like a butterfly…but from another it looks like an angry man’s face. I remembered staring at the box as a kid for hours trying to decide which pattern I liked the most. I couldn't decide.

I was ‘happy’ seeing the carefree butterfly and ‘sad’ on seeing the angry man’s scowling face. Being happy and sad were pretty much the only 2 emotions that we have as a child. It starts getting complicated as we grow up.

I don’t remember exactly when I had decided to make this particular box, the Box to hold my dreams.

I slowly lifted the lid and uncovered the box. Years of darkness and tranquility was suddenly given a rude shock as the glaring light fell on the sleepy contents of the box. There were some small folded papers inside the box. I picked up those papers and started unfolding them….unfolding my dreams that I had dreamt years back and had put them in a box….and forgotten about them.

I unfolded all the papers and placed them on the desk. The little pieces of paper were like little parts of me lying on the desk. I had lived all these lives individually inside my head at some point in time.

So what exactly had I dreamt?

I want to be a firefly

I want to travel the world alone

I want to sing like a nightingale and dance like the bird of paradise

I want to be a chef

I want to love and be loved

I want to stay in a house whose bricks are books

I want to be the start…..and the end

I want to be a photographer

I want to nurture and care

I want to write a book

My eyes turned moist and my vision blurred.

I folded the little chits neatly and kept them back in the box. Before closing the lid, I pulled a piece of paper and scribbled a last dream on it:

I want to run in the rain till I become the ‘Rain’

I folded the paper and put it inside the Box….closed the lid and put it back to where it was.

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