Echoes of a Dream: A Journey to Change

 

                                                                                                                                       

LittleFawn

(A Tale of Fragile Threads)

We see dreams every night, right?

A kaleidoscope of emotions: happiness, fear, excitement or sadness.

Some dreams last for just a few moments. They vanish with the first dawn, like the light atmosphere. But some dreams leave a shadow on the heart and mind, a shadow that is not easy to forget.

On 22 February 2022, at exactly 5:48 in the morning, I woke up from such a dream, a nightmare that was so haunting that it felt as if someone had placed a heavy stone on my eyes. Eyes were crying in pain, and even after hours it did not go away.

I have seen bad dreams before, but this was something different. This dream was sticky, like some ominous feeling which no one can tell.

I will tell you as much as I can remember...

However, all the details are blurred, as if someone has smudged a painting with trembling hands.

It was raining. The sound of falling rocks was continuously heard, as if it was the background score of some tragedy. Mamu was near me; her presence was warm as it always is. But Baba was nowhere to be seen.

I think some relative was very ill, almost dying. There was a strange kind of peace all around, the kind in which everything is happening fast and yet has stopped.

But in the end, the relationship was saved. I felt relieved, as if the rain had washed me.

But this relief did not last long.

"I must go now," Mamu said.

Her voice was soft, but it carried an emotion that was beyond words.

"I must go now," she said. The words were simple, but their burden was unbearable.

I immediately understood what she meant, without any further explanation.

This dream did not seem like a dream anymore. The line between reality and nightmare had blurred.

I clung to her feet, as if my grip would stop them.

Her feet slowly began to rise in the air, and a wave of terror ran through me.

"Please, don't leave me!" I said in a whisper, my voice was trembling, and my heart was breaking.

I gave her my phone, a desperate attempt to maintain the connection:

"Take this! Call me! I want to hear your voice, see your face..."

She smiled, with a bittersweet expression that was both endearing and resentful.

"He won't allow it," she said cryptically, "but I will try to meet you sometimes."

"No! No! No!" I said it in a choking voice, as if someone had snatched these words from my heart.

And then... suddenly I got up.

I was silent for a few moments...

My breathing was fast, my body was trembling. Slowly the reality was coming back, but the emotion of that dream did not go away.

Who knows if this dream had not happened?

What would Baba have done? How would he have managed our house?

My mother is the light of our house - always happy, alive at heart, full of life.

Baba - he works so hard, 18 hours a day, just for us.

But whenever he comes home, his face shines with us.

If Mamu leaves... that light would go away.

There would only be empty pan left in the house.

I cried for an hour.

The tears kept flowing, and a regret ate me from inside.

A bitter truth came in front of me, I had taken them for granted.

My parents have put their lives at stake every moment to give me a better life,

and what did I do for them?

Memories came back...

• When I started learning piano, Papa's face lit up with pride.

But I left it midway.

• I started drawing too, but that too could not last long.

My life had become a series of random tasks,

Like an unknown symphony that is never completed.

I am 18 years old, but I have never done any work wholeheartedly.

My parents gave me everything, and in return I got nothing.

Then I took a decision.

I will change – not in words, but in actions.

• I will concentrate on studies.

• I will pursue the interests that I had given up.

• I will help at home, no matter how small.

• And the most important thing, I will never take my parents’ love and sacrifices for granted.

In the morning, I did not tell them anything.

But seeing my mother – alive and well – tears came to my eyes.

She had gone to a relative's house that day,

and I am sitting here, writing all this...

A new courage, with a new thought.

Life is very short...

And relationships are very delicate.

But there is never a fear of strengthening them, of changing them,

And of respecting those people who give us their whole world.

If you are reading this, it is possible that you too have felt something like this at some point.

Then consider it a signal.

Change, improve – for those who love you the most and for yourself too.