The mother’s voice is shrill and piercing. “Nimish, you are such a dreamer. You need to stop this silly habit.
Dreams don’t pay bills. Only hard work pays off. Use this time on the flight to do some Math sums.
” The son mumbles what is not quite a reply. And in the seat behind, I pinch my airpods to enter a quieter world — my own dream time. But I see a little nose press against the aircraft window in front and I can sense a pair of small shoulders sag.
I wonder just why there is propaganda against daydreams. Dreams cause creation and expansion. The impossible can become reality and the improbable can become a ‘thing’ if we can dream it up.
Imagination is the most precious superpower of humans. Carl Jung once said “all the works of man have their origin in creative fantasy. What right have we then to depreciate our imagination?” I also love Einstein’s words: “logic will take you from A to B.
Imagination will take you everywhere.” The year comes to a close and like the rest of us, I try now to take stock of all that was important. It’s an important preoccupation and yet there is another that has raced ahead to claim loving dominance over my thoughts.
A silly little daydream where I wander through a densely canopied rainforest and search in the mushroom and wildflower-filled carpet underfoot. There I find embedded in the velvety foliage, fabulous and mysterious looking seeds that are iridescent, gold-dipped and in shades of reds, blues and violets with .
