When I grow up, it would be just shattered dreams!

When I grow up, I want to be rich; I want to have boobies (oops, groupies), so the song goes.
We all have our dreams so as not to repeat the mistakes that our forefathers. We want to undo all the mistakes, to grasp lost opportunities or that that never came their way. We follow the rules, the do's and don'ts paved by our elders. We try to uphold ancient value systems hoping for the blessings from Nature or Divine Being or whoever who is or isn't there.

We play hard, we work hard but bearing in mind that the Middle Path is always the best.

We do a reality check. The last time we scrutinised, we were doing a-okay. The future could not be looking any better. We were proud of ourselves. The future looked so bright that we may have to wear shades.

Then wham!

The dark shadow of the past plagues come haunting. The very genetically predetermined ailments that were tried to be kept at bay came a-knocking. The sensible life that was led is no guarantee for the rogue DNA to go berserk. You had one job to do, DNA, to replicate evenly, that too can go asunder. We observe rigid rules and indulge judiciously but still...

We do the best for our dependants, believing that they are God-sent and it is our God-sent duty on Earth when we accepted our mission to this birth. Still, that is not enough. Problems abound, if it is not poverty, then it is first world problem. Sobriety and satiety seem like but an illusive dream. Our offspring would probably feel the same growing pains that we had felt before in the spring of our youths and did not want to replicate. And maybe, they would want to their would want to build their own dreams for the future.

It is okay if dreams do not materialise, as long as it does not metamorph into the nightmare that leaves us drenched in our own bodily fluids.

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