One of these Tees I came across on the interwebs has a plain astronaut in his astro-suits on it. Yes, we all are familiar with the astronauts in their white robo suits with a black globular screen for their faces. Underneath this astronaut, its written "Not all dreams can come true".
Do you follow? See, its a sad theme. To grow up and become an astronaut is that cliche childhood ambition. Suddenly the frame changes to a 30 year old person's family life. Spouse, children, job, salary, tensions. Not all dreams come true.
Well, I guess that the topic of dreams is much too discussed here lately. My original intention was the aspirations of childhood. So, focus : Childhood.
Some weeks ago, I was checking an old sack stuffed up with the old stuff, dating back to my childhood days. Indeed it seemed quite a lot more colourful than the present day. There were my old watercolor paintings. Most of us have got a chance to play around with colours when we were children. Old drawings are the craziest reminders of your childhood. They tell how you observed the world around you, how you perceived and criticized it. And how you hoped for wonderful things to happen there. (I should also add that this was my one motivation to make the Penciling template)
One of those old paintings I did
Ants were always my fascination. I and sis held training camps for them. Ants were made to cross a string stretched above burning papers or icy water. Ants were put in glass jars together with spiders to improve their combat skills. And there was even a hospital for the injured(which was anyhow, less in number than the dead). There were folded paper beds and we even volunteered to stick them to their beds with glue in case they showed an urge to run away. Those blessed little souls!
And then there was this totally out of the earth game where we drew up and cut out characters in paper, named them, defined family hierarchies and gangs, and gave voice to them all aloud just to make everyone else in the house go nuts with irritation. I myself invented another game where leaves and flowers of the hibiscus were two kinds of birds which fought each other every evening in bloody wars. This one, owing to the fact that it was too imaginative (and violent), wasn't supported by other kids at home, thus leaving me to play alone.
"Those childhood days", we say.
All those colourful things we did break down into vague memories or broken toys or happy paintings with fading colours. Like the astronaut's picture in the tee, the lines drawn in charcoal and crayons remain a fancy imagination. Santa Claus, Tooth Fairy and the Astronaut.
And then a book, a movie, or a song comes up with an inner call to make happen what we scribbled in those papers and walls. But we move only as little as to grab another snack or drink. Then a complete nonsense comedy comes up on TV, and we laugh our inspiration off. Life goes on. Dreams remain dreams. Pictures remain pictures. Only that their colours keep fading. But we don't care, anyhow.
I believe, if not too often, atleast once in a while, we should all take time to go back to our past. It is as important as forgetting the bad memories, to recall the beautiful things we did. Old crayons, old books, and old valentine's day cards. Its always okay and even necessary to hold onto the best things that has happened to us, and to make ourselves believe in times of trouble that happiness is simply possible on this Earth.
