She looked like a harmless feather quilt but was rebel in the garb of innocence. Her frame was petite yet had some cosmic strength. She would never express through words yet would give it all away through her eyes.
Her mind could not be controlled by the stipulations of sensibility & rationale. She was the dreamer who only knew how to dream. A rebel who stood for what she believed was true. A doer who looked for no reason or logic for actions. She had a sensitive heart which would go by instincts.
Scene 2: Same body but a different soul. Crisp white impeccable shirt, clean slim trousers, high arrogant heals; she walks with poise, measures her words and makes all possible logical sense. She makes power point presentation to explain the rationale. She markets her proposal with utmost confidence and calculations intact. Organized &
methodical she weighs every word she says. Is out there to be respected & not loved.
Life is full of dichotomies and paradoxes.
It’s one body with two souls. She lives two lives everyday. The careless dreamer at times gets over shadowed by the practicality of reality. When she stumbles against the harsh truths of life that revolve around the humdrum of a regular sane life, the bird inside feels caged.
But there are times when the dreamer feels emancipated and breaks free from the shackles of convention and flies high. Above all mediocrity she elevates her soul to fly high trying to touch the horizon.
The truth is that all of us have two faces. We are born dreamers and emancipated souls. Our core is pristine and innocent; reckless and carefree. As life goes by, our experiences, situations and circumstances unknowingly start molding us. A conventional mindset calls this the process of growing up / gaining maturity.
Materialistic necessities start defining our lives. These necessities sustain our life and hence we give in. We succumb to being the regular, the one who markets herself & her capabilities. The one who states action items and defines timelines. The one who on the 1st of every month realizes that this is what I have to do to sustain myself.
And the dreamer goes into oblivion, hides somewhere in the dark; silent, scared and wounded by the harsh realities and non acceptance.
Will the oblivion be for a lifetime or will there be resurgence? Only time will tell.