Dreams

"Once in a far-off land, there was a...." Wait, wait, wait! That's a pretty old phrase to start with. So let's begin anew. Everyone is familiar with Fire and Ice, both fundamental elements of nature. The basics: Fire is hot and can burn things, while ice is cold. Fire can melt ice into water, and water, in turn, extinguishes fire. They are considered enemies, they say. But let me tell you a different story, and it goes like this... Once, there was a small spark ignited by flints. The spark was innocent and knew nothing about the world around it. It was alone and isolated. It traveled the world, growing into a fire. As the fire journeyed, it helped things around it, motivating them to ignite and find strength in life. But one fine day, as Fire drifted through the woods, it saw a peculiar being. Fire stopped to take a closer look. The being was cold, beautiful, symmetrically carved, and had majestic transparency. Fire was captivated, but as it approached, it felt its he...

Everything was progressing normally in life until, one fine day, I grew up. I realized something was on my mind but couldn't discern what it was. Whatever it was, it applied immense pressure on my cerebral tissues, turning every thought into a product of overthinking and anxiety. I started collecting these so-called 'favorite people,' but they showed little interest in me. The world seemed increasingly driven by money, as some people staunchly declared. I began aiming for wealth, believing these favorite people might be attracted to money rather than my personality and behavior. One fine day, as my journey continued, I found myself surrounded by a lively group of people. Surprisingly, they had a mentality very similar to mine. We bonded, exchanged valuable insights, and enjoyed life, leaving all responsibilities far behind. We were unknowingly flaunting a life others dreamt of, though we never realized it, as we didn't belong to the so-called 'daily show-offs' c...

That quiet boy in class was as silent as could be. What thoughts occupied his mind? What secrets lay hidden deep within his soul? Was it a tale worth telling, or was he grappling with an internal conflict we couldn't perceive? Was it a love story, or an unseen struggle? When questioned, he replied, "I'll leave it up to you to decide what it could be; after all, everyone has a different point of view." I remained silent as he continued to unravel the tangled strings of words emanating from him. He said, "I could be a hero in my own story, a villain in yours; that doesn't matter to me as life has already been hitting me hard lately. But is my life worth narrating to others? Others might have stories far more painful than mine. I ponder this and stay quiet." The aura fills with silence as the quiet boy lapses back into his reticence, feeling he has divulged too much about himself, which might seem unnecessary and irrelevant to the listener. But who knows? T...

One night, with examinations looming, I was ostensibly studying when a thought struck me. What was I really doing? Was I genuinely studying or merely daydreaming in the dead of night? My thoughts raced at light speed, reflecting on everything I had done this year—the people I met, the friends I made, and how they treated me. Was it good or bad? I found people whom I now trust immensely, but do they trust me the same way? Am I truly important to them? Does my existence matter in their lives? I wondered... My thoughts accelerated... 3 x 10⁸, 3 x 10⁹, 3 x 10¹⁰ m/s... and still gaining momentum. I started recalling instances with various individuals, moments where I experienced something novel, a feeling that had never permeated my body or soul. Some people genuinely treated me well and continue to do so; I hold no grievances against them. But there were others who treated me well when they needed something from me, only to ghost me afterward as if I never existed. I sought reasons for why...

It was a breezy evening, and the boy stood quietly on the balcony of his building, gazing absentmindedly at the bustling street below. The city’s rhythm, with cars honking and people rushing by, seemed distant to him as his thoughts wandered. But then, in the midst of the crowd, he spotted her—Luna. The girl he loved. She was running, weaving her way through the crowd, her hair flowing behind her. His heart skipped a beat. Something wasn’t right. Why was she running? Without a second thought, he rushed downstairs and onto the street, calling her name. "Luna!" he shouted, his voice barely rising above the noise of the busy street. She didn’t turn. His heart pounded harder. He ran faster, pushing past people, tears beginning to well in his eyes. "Luna!" he called again, desperation lacing his voice. But she kept running, as though she couldn’t hear him at all. His feet felt heavier with each step, but he couldn’t stop. He had to reach her. Then it hit him—she was leav...