Hopeful Slumber

I look to myself.

Blinding lights pierce sleepy eyes. It's all a blur, a mist. Forgotten memories linger in my head quite obstinately. It's all a mess. I lay on my bed and think. I think of a world today, of what tomorrow may be. Can't get past the first class without dozing off but can think of what my years ahead will look like – when i'm reading a crisp newspaper with hot chai, sitting on a round glass table on a wooden balcony, somewhere in a remote corner of India. Life today seems old, stagnant, a drag if you will. It's not changed much: maybe that is what's bothering me. I close my eyes and take a deep breath and a cool feeling passes through my body – as if reassuringly beckoning me to have hope. Hope?

Yes hope. It's an important thing. It influences how one perceives life. Hopeful thought is a dangerous thing too. Overly optimism is a trait I like to avoid. I must be so sceptical though. Never did I think twice before feeling happy all those years ago. When I just lived. Today there is purpose. I'm still lying on my bed. Thoughts just seem to flow here. I'm stubborn. I don't want to get up. I dont want to accept life as it comes to me right now. I'll get through this phase – I'm sceptical. That's what I am.

I'm waking up. It's time. Few thoughts of introspection have flown today. Streams of consciousness, duty, alertness – I'm ready. I feel different though – maybe hope is out there. Maybe if I look at today as fondly as i do the past. Or maybe tomorrow when I look back, on a past I once lived. Why not live it today? Its all very confusing.

Morning breeze and serene bansuri fill the air. The fruitwala is exclaiming the same as ever. The sun, is bright but gentle – light morning mist and thick cotton clouds fill the sky.

It's the same day, it's the same place.

Hope is in my eyes. It's in your eyes. It's there when we are willing to see with its gaze. And when we do, the world is a different place.

I'm still in my bed. I think I dozed off for a bit.