By- Samadrita Sarkar
I had a dream last night.
A very vivid dream, with glittering hope and sweet promises.
I dreamt that our earth was fresh again.
It wasn't plagued by illnesses and the crude injustices of human beings.
It wasn't filled with filthy destruction and malicious intent.
It wasn't surrounded by an air of eerie doom.
Our earth was fresh again.
It was as if the beginning of humanity prevailed, the age-old principle of co-existing prominent in every corner.
We were all living together, hand in hand, whispering promises to each other.
Promise to hold on.
Nature's children were introspective, acknowledging each other's efforts to save their mother.
I woke up with a smile on my face and determination in my heart.
I grabbed a pencil and my notebook and made myself promise.
When the lockdown ends, I'll approach my 'enemies’.
I'll hug them and tell them, “I'm sorry, please forgive me.”
I'll gift my mother a handmade card and tell her, “You're the best mother, sorry for not answering
your calls at 5 pm on Monday and being irritated when you made a cake for my birthday. I thought you were making a fool of yourself.”
Someone was foolish, but you weren't.
You were the fairy with a magic wand to wipe away my sorrow.
I was the fool.
I'm going to smile at my domestic help, Seema Maasi and at her tireless efforts to make sure my house is my 'home’.
I'll say, “Thank you for cooking my favourite vegetable curry when I'm stressed out. You're an angel.”
To the fishmonger -with- a -bright -smile, I'll say, “Thank you for going out of your way and ensuring that the fresh fish is delivered to my doorstep. You know how I hate going to the fish market.”
I'm going to acknowledge everyone who made our lives easier during this crisis.
Doctors, nurses, necessity workers, frontline workers, everyone.
Thank you for saving us, you didn't have to.
You paid the price for everyone's actions, you didn't have to.
You bore the brunt of nature's wrath, you didn't have to.
All of you, who sacrificed your precious lives for us, you didn't have to.
You will be remembered. I promise, you will be there in our hearts.
Then I'll meet each of my friends at our favourite café.
I'll treat them with coffee and cookies.
And tell them, “Thank you for being my rock when I was failing. Thank you for lifting me up when I was drowning.”
I'll reach out to my teachers, who had given everything they possessed to us, but didn't get enough gratitude.
“Thank You” I'll say, “for being patient when I was impatient, for imparting knowledge when you knew we were being insolent.”
I'm going to make homemade lemonade for my next door neighbor, the gracious eighty year old lady.
And say, “This is for you, Granny. Thank you for taking care of me when I was sick in a new city, with no-one to turn to.”
Then I'm going to thank this green earth.
For being the pallbearer of life. For rejuvenating us.
I'm going to work toward loving my earth more. And urge others to love their earth too.
I'm going to dance like the forest-fairy, under twinkling stars and clear sky.
I want to sing loudly as the gusty wind slaps across my face.
I'm going to splatter mud across my dress while I run around the countryside, while it's raining heavily.
I'm going to love my nature more. And the beings within it much better.
As I closed my notebook with blurry eyes,
I realised how self-centred I had been, in my dealings with life.
I haven't had the time to think about my actions, to repent them.
I guess, reading Neruda's “Keeping Quiet” didn't make much difference.
Until yesterday's dream.
But first, I realised, I need to love myself.
Self-love is important, so is accepting oneself with her flaws.
After the lockdown ends, I'm going to love everyone around me.
But before that, I'm going to love myself more.
All because, I had a dream last night.
Samadrita Sarkar is an introvert, avid book and nature lover, who often likes to write about things that invade her mind. She loves to sing, listen to music, cook, debate and have deep discussions about various philosophies of life. She absolutely adores anything thriller but an occasional romantic comedy brings tears to her eyes and a smile on her face. Her aspiration is to do a backpack tour of the world, adopt as many animals as she can, and maybe open a school for the underprivileged.