This May, an event occurred in my life that literally shattered my existence for a week. Up till now, I have been trying my very best to push that incident into crevices of my mind so that I could comfortably live in denial and let my thoughts swirl around anything else but that incident.
I had a dream.
Something very precious. Something that I held extremely close to my heart, something that had impregnated my soul in such a way that there was nothing else that I thought of, every waking hour that I spent in solitude.
It was an institution I wanted to join. The love for my dream transcended into obsession so rapidly that in merely a month's time the wall behind my bed rest, had a picture of this institution. Each morning when I woke up, it would be the first thing I saw and every day I felt I was closer to realising this dream.
Then reality made a grand and exquisite entry just like a villain does in a movie, only difference being my life was the movie here.
I was 400 persons behind the final cut-off for that institution.
It broke me.
This has been my first experience of rejection/defeat or whatever you choose to term it as.
I spent two odd days wallowing in self-pity and drowning in a pool of tears.
The feeling of having lost clouded my judgment and my sensibility. So much so that the fact that I got into the second best college in the city, seemed like an act of condescension by god.
It's been five whole months and though I pretend to, I still haven't gotten over. The place I wanted didn't come my way. Yes, I did gain on a few good professors here which wouldn't have been there in the place I wanted,but the gnawing pain still refuses to go, refuses to see sense.
Coming back to now, there is another institution I want to go to in the future.
But I'm scared of thinking of it.
I'm scared of putting up the picture on my bedroom wall.
I'm scared of wanting to be in that institution.
I'm scared of imaging a life there.
I am scared of dreaming.
All I keep asking myself is that after what happened earlier this year, am I still allowed?
Am I still allowed to put up a picture? Not only on the bedroom wall but in my mind?
Am I allowed to dream?
