The Greatest Irony of Life

Iris is over and classes are going to start, there will be n number of quizzes starting from tomorrow and I am in no mood to study. God has given me a, what I call, gold class mood. It always behaves opposite to requirement. And so here I was, trying to write a poem (my 1^st attempt) when what I really needed to do was immerse myself into the world of finance and quant. thankfully my maiden attempt failed, and so you are spared the task of reading some piece of garbage dump, which I was going to call poem.

You are spared the poem, but not the contents, which I am going to write in the form of prose anyway. It is all about the great equation between dream and reality. Call it the dreamy reality or real dream, or anything else. It is like a gentle brush with the soft innocence of romance which disappears after a head on collision with reality so hard and harsh. A beautiful glassy world, you are so pleased to live in, breaking down another moment in to pieces of shards. The glass once so fragile and lovely to look at, now sharp enough to make you bleed.

When it comes to pure dreams you don’t stop to collect those sharp pieces, to save as a souvenir. The moment one world collapses there is another one, ready to move in, just like a rented apartment, you move in and move out, without much sorrow or joy. This is the beauty of dream; this is the baseness of dream.

Pure reality, by definition, is just opposite of what a dream is. Your heart is the garbage dump, which collects all the broken pieces, bleeding itself in the process and dropping some salty drops in response.

I don’t know which one is better. But yes one thing I am sure of. What if all the dreams come true in reality? Won’t it be playing two roles for the same part? Trying to forget something by keeping a memorabilia of it. 

Doesn’t it sound ironical? 

Yes it is. But so is our life. Ironical by basic definition.

Born to be dead. 

The greatest irony of life- Life itself.