One Hell Of A Dream


~ Originally posted on Nov 9, 2013.

“Remember, you are going to chase your dream. No matter what,” he said.

“Yep, I am,” I nodded looking at him straight into his eyes.

“And Most people don’t,” he continued.

“Hmmm,” I nodded, still staring at the mirror where he appeared.

I turned back. I didn’t want him to persuade me more. He did enough already, did enough to unblock my mind. My vision became clear. I was able to see my future. No more second thoughts, I decided. That was all I could do then. I took my mobile and dialed my mom’s number.

“Mom, I’m sorry,” I started without even waiting for her ‘Hello.’

“What?” she dropped the call at that instant. I was in no mood to give her a call again. It was just that I didn’t want to trouble her already-disappointed-and-down mind more.

Thirty minutes passed by. She didn’t bother to call me back. I didn’t either. I understood that it was perfectly normal for anyone in her shoes to react like what she did. For her, I was, unarguably, wrong in my decision.

I felt restless; partially because of my mom and partially because of her – Neha, she was. I dialed her number this time. Shiver ran down my spine. As her mobile was ringing, I couldn’t sit or stand in one place. I strolled all around the hall. She picked, finally, before the call would become unanswered.

“Hey, hi.” It was her.

I was silent.

“Well, hold on a minute. I’m surrounded by people. I will come out,” she continued in a hurry.

I was still struggling for words.

“Hi, it’s good now. How have you been?” It was the usual her.

“Listen, I have made my decision,” I mumbled.

“What? Thank God. You did. Finally,” she was letting her excitement heard obviously. Poor girl, she wasn’t aware that my decision wasn’t on her side. It wasn’t because she took my mom’s side.

“I’m not the right person for you, dear,” I said, loud and clear, before realizing that it’s time to cut the “dear” part from our conversation.

“What the hell are you saying? Are you even in your senses now?” she was loud and angry. She usually has the doubt like I’m not in my senses often. Never mind, she loved me for what I am.

“Hey, I’m sorry, but with my decision already made, I don’t want you to suffer along with me. You better be in your senses and try to understand. Bye.” I ended the call and switched off my mobile.

I didn’t turn it on for the next few days. She was angry on me more than ever, more than anyone else. Not for that I choose my dream over her, but for that I cut her off completely without even giving her a chance to put forth her stand on me and my decision. I’d later hear that from my mom. Her anger made her not to see me forever. I respected her decision. I made sure that I stayed away from her.

I never thought that I’d see her again in my lifetime, not until I saw her today. Fate, it is. I was at the bus stop, with my script in hand, waiting for my friend to pick me. Yes, believe me. I do have a couple of friends still. I was just an hour away from meeting the nth producer in the past eleven years.

She pulled her car over (reason, unknown to me) and got out of it. Unfortunately, she saw me, but pretended as if she didn’t see me. A poor girl, still she is. She didn’t realize that I had seen her too. She took her car and rode off in the blink of an eye. I felt bad that I couldn’t let her do what she wanted to over there. However, I was happy to see her and her kids (Yep, I saw two kids in the car. I assume that they are hers).

My confidence level boosted up heavily. I was sure that I could see the light, at last. I hoped that all my struggles were at their deathbed counting the final minutes to depart their world – that was me.

Later in the day, my script was rejected. Time and again.

“Time has changed, buddy,” the producer said, “No one likes to see a movie that has a realistic touch to it, you see, like a documentary kind. People prefer a mass masala flick. Entertainment, which is all they need.”

I smiled at him. Come back with a better one, with what people need, he told me when I left. I threw my script into the trash can at his office. Surprisingly, I walked happily. I didn’t know the reason. Or maybe, I knew.

I didn’t call my friend who asked me to do to pick me up from the producer’s office. I rather walked along the untidy pavement. I saw the wall poster of a recently released movie with the hero holding the gun in his mouth and two girls (heroines, of course) on the either side with his hands. The movie, it’s been running to packed houses ever since it was released. I saw the movie two days back. I stormed out of the theatre before the interval. I liked it that much. The scene I saw in the poster was one of the many (until I saw the film) when the fans went crazy whistling and throwing the already cut newspaper pieces on the screen.

During my walk, I realized why I have been failing till then. I got the answer. I wanted to cry out loud. At that instant, I wished that the suicide attempt I made few years back was successful. But I didn’t want to try it again, not until I finish my new script – a script about a lunatic who didn’t listen to his parent’s words, who missed the girl whom he loved the most, who quit the handful-of-money-offering-job only to end up borrowing money from his friends to make ends meet, who failed miserably for the past eleven years in pursuing his dream – a dream of making big in the film industry.

I regret the decision I made. Maybe, I wouldn’t have had I been successful. But it’s what it is. It was a decision that would turn my life upside down, of course, for good, I thought. Crap, who knew it would happen in an exact opposite way. Well, my mom did. Perhaps, my dad did too. And almost all whom I knew and shared my decision with, except for that one person who knew me. I mean, who completely knew me, what was I up to. So, as it turned out, we both were wrong, miserably.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s