The color of dreams on the canvas of loneliness: The way I live

How are your friends? I hope you are all well. In the busyness of this mechanical life, it may not always be known who is where, how you. Still, I want you to be well and healthy wherever you are. Today I want to share with you some things that are not usually said to anyone. Some things are stored very deep in the chest; I am revealing those stored words in front of you.

At a certain stage in life, I realized a very big truth. That truth is "I know how people live with dreams when they are alone."

This sentence is not just a line for me, it is a summary of the current chapter of my life. We all love to be in a crowd, and we want to see the smiling faces of our loved ones. But when a person becomes truly alone due to the cruel irony of fate or the need of time, what is his world like? When the noise around stops, when his people become busy with their own work, then loneliness comes and knocks on the door. At first, this loneliness feels very scary; it feels like I am suffocating. But gradually I discovered that loneliness does not mean the end.

When a person is alone, he finds his greatest friend, and that friend is his 'dream'. I have seen that when there is no one to listen to me, I talk to myself. When reality hits me, I take refuge in the world of imagination. It seems to me that lonely people are a little more dreamy than ordinary people. Because they have no other way to survive.

In reality, I may have many limitations, the pain of not having much. But when I close my eyes, I see another me. There I am free, there I am victorious. Loneliness has taught me that it is possible to make the inner world of the mind much more colorful than the glittering life outside.

I have arranged some things about this loneliness of mine and the mirage of dreams in the rhythm of poetry. Maybe you will find your unspoken words among these lines.

Poem: Dream Lake

When in the heart of this city called Aadhar,
People are busy with artificial happiness.
I then want to open the window and breathe in the sky,
I lose myself in the midst of being alone.
There is no one by my side, no hand,
I spend the night of being alone with dreams.
Reality is hard and terrible; it chases me every day,
I give another world to my imagination.
I live in a corner of a dilapidated house with stale flowers,
I spend twelve months weaving dreams.
No one understands what kind of river flows inside my heart,
A lonely person arranges dreams and finds no fear.
I hide all my tears behind a fake smile,
I seek the resources to survive from dreams.
Being alone is not a sin, someday,
I repay all the debts of life with dreams.

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