She wrote her dreams,
the big ones,
the small ones,
the plausible grails,
and the impossible fantasies,
with fluorescent ink,
in a diary, which she kept
always next to her
and she scrawled for years
without looking into the journal once

Decades had passed,
eons rolled up,
and with time
the dreams gradually faded away,

How in the beginning
she scribbled those wishes restlessly,
but as time went by
the pipe dreams drizzled away,
and now the dreams lay insentient
never remembered,
long forgotten,
like some yore of the past
lost in the darkness
of a rusty briefcase
stashed in the attic of a dilapidated house

And then one day
as she was cleaning the garret
she found her long lost diary
all dusty and wearing grime
in some corner
obscured in oblivion

She pulled it out with trembling hands
and rummaged the scrap to find a pencil
with the hope to tick
all the fulfilled dreams
as a mark of victory

With twinkle in her eyes
she mustered some courage,
and flipped through the long treasured thoughts,
but as she turned the pages
she found the dreams were too tall
and her desire to achieve way too short,
she stared at the old notebook
with obscurity and despair,
and wondered how her mundane life
had stolen away her dreams
abrading her hopes layer after layer,
and how some assumed responsibilities
had made her own priorities
reduce to some minuscule significance

But as they say it is never too late
so with hope in her eyes
and pride in her smile,
she marched to realize each one of her foregone dream,
to make it a reality
and she soared with renewed roar

Copyright © Shantanu Baruah

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