From a dream lost to a dream uprising.
10 year old me wanted imaginary characters to play, to protect her from all the bullies. To teach her how to be cool.
She creates best friends who transported her from that hell to a world of fantasy where she was cool, she had friends, she was happy.
And from those characters emerged a story. A brick at first and into a skyscraper soaring high.
But then came adulthood and along with it reality.
She was no longer the kid living her fiction. She was an adult getting into medical school and life felt real, scary.
But what was more scary was the skyscraper being destroyed, leaving an abandoned bare land.
The fiction wasn't really, but the yearning for those characters were. She wanted them to live. She wanted them to have a life she couldn't.
She wanted love, she wanted freedom she wanted to fly high, go wild.
But how could a person fly when they are tied by society's restrictions.
And so I start to run.
Not a sprint but a marathon slow and tiring.
Away from all this, away from the smiles that crushed me behind my back. Away from the minds that wished I fell. Away from the legs that stamped me again and again.
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Redmi Buds 4 Active - Air White (30 Hrs battery)
Rs. 1499I cry
I cry with my words, my anger all over the pages telling the silent story of me, and of the reason I run.
Not because my dream was suppressed but cause I could feel it rising and life doesn't give a third chance.
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