Dear Diary 03/12/2015

Mind is at unrest, I do not know what is the right path for me. There are many thoughts rolling past, flashing by but I am stuck somewhere in a land unknown, trying to get out of it—yet I say, mind is at unrest.

There are situations which are easy to counter and which are difficult to counter, this situation of mine is difficult at the moment. I wish to breathe easy, and be like the dew in the morning and evening breeze. Now how cooler and satisfactory it would be I wonder and keep liking the very idea. It just makes me feel strong and yet again gives me flashbacks of how chiller the morning would be—when I would wait for my school bus at the bus stop. How the thought of cold water in the morning would send goosebumps, but I had to take a bath in the morning nevertheless. The very tinging memory of the winters is itself so victorious, as it also warms me up and cools me down.

I remember my friend Arjun, who would spend hours with me in the tennis courts—not playing tennis but discussing life, while we would relish the taste of our favourite ice cream from Kwality Walls, the Blue Grape Jelly. He was such a lover of that ice cream that in the recess time, he would often eat 2 of them, whereas I would be satisfied with only one. This is the memory of 8th standard, but later on I remember him discussing mobile games with others, as he had many friends when we were in 11th. But I knew, he always had me in the back of his mind, so I would be glad by his presence always!

Winters have magic, winters have that trust, but all that I say from my perspective as I remember the past winters. Otherwise I am a great fan of summer season as well, I often regard it as my favourite season. When others find it difficult to beat the heat, I again remember the Summer Cricket Camp which I would join every year near my home. I was so happy in the two months of my summer vacations. I would be the first kid to reach the nets and jog at the ground, and I played exceedingly well—but somewhere I could not perform very well, that I am here just typing down my childhood days. I had wanted to play all my life, the game of cricket; but as they say, one does not get all one dreams. So newer dreams come up, to catch up with the times. Whereas those past dreams hold a crucial space in our hearts that thinking about them, springs in the tinging effect as I just expressed.

This is the wonder of dreaming, that even if your mood is not right, even if you are passing through the most difficult phases of life, (oh, you never know which one is the most difficult one); you get to the tone of things—remembering your childhood dreams.

So, now I feel much better and would be able to complete an article I am trying to write for a long time now. Thanks, and catch you soon!



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