I am a dreamer. I dream a lot. Infact, I enjoy dreaming a lot. It was my favourite passtime when I was younger. I remember taking time out of my studies even during exams to dream and relax. It was so fulfilling. It was a lovely experience.

I dont enjoy doing that now. Now my senses are crowded with affairs that affect my day-to-day life. Nowadays, sometimes when I get a chance to breathe consciously, I long to go back to those days when I could dream idly. Not that am busy these days, I am just polluted by the years and my body has outgrown my mind.

When I think of those days when I could dream, I remember that I had many interesting and colourful people in my people who were probably just like me then. I do not find many of them now – my childhood friends. I forget what I should remember often, but my illustrated memory of those friends and the small little uneventful moments that we had together come back infront of my eyes.

I remember Roumik, my ‘best friend’ when I was in Class III.  I remember breaking his wooden ruler because he broke my only pen. I remember trying to fix my ballpen with Fevicol because he got his ruler fixed again. I search for him in Orkut often but I cannot find him.

Those were the best days of my life. I wish I didnt have the urge to grow up then and dream more, when I had the chance to dream