Wishing for Wishes

Monisha Rastogi posted under Flash Fiction QuinTale-28 on 2021-03-08



WISH- Just a four letter word but encompasses the entire life at one go. Who doesn’t wish for niceties of life ?  But then ‘if wishes were horses, beggars would ride’ is also so true. If all our wishes get fulfilled , the charm of dreaming, aspiring and looking at the end of the tunnel to see the bright sun rays would vanish. And we all would be like the fictious Midas with the golden touch But God, the master planner has designed the trajectory of life in such a beautiful way that the desire to see our wishes fulfilled acts like a fuel to the vehicle called life. How I wish I could go back in time and relive my childhood again. Those carefree days of bliss!!  And how as children, we looked forward to don the robe of adulthood to have the magic wand of power in our hands. Little did we know that power came adorned with lots of responsibilities and the Peter Parker principle “with great power, comes great responsibility” was never understood in its real context. Today, those wonderful outdoor games of hide and seek, seven tiles and many more look so enticing, as if beckoning me to run and hug them. How I wish I could do it. Soiled with dust and dirt, unkempt hair, a simple frock sans fanfare, with the neighbourhood gang who knew not the difference between haves and the have-nots, yet enjoyed even the gudda guriya weddings with all the childhood aristocracy. My childhood was a cornucopia of ubiquitous happiness; without the need of filters, where happiness was not proportional to the number of  likes and thumbs up received. When I see the children of today enveloped with gadgets, despair surrounds me. I feel sad at their hard luck for not getting to enjoy the childhood we had. Their playing time has shrivelled to the world of hi fi gadgets.  Tabs, mobiles, social media is all what they have for enjoyment as well as recreation. To step out into the world of natural fragrance and to inhale the pure air of grounds and fields is as unreal to them as chalk to cheese. I wish they could run into the sands of time, fall, bleed , dust those injuries, fight with playmates, and come back the next morning with the same set of friends, forgetting the fights of  yesterday and building memories of another beautiful tomorrow. My wish to go back in the annals of time of the seventies and eighties, though seems a tad hazy, but can definitely be relived by being amidst the chirpy teenagers that I encounter every day as a teacher. No wonder I seek solace in my profession as a teacher as it not only helps me stay close to my childhood memories, but also acts as my passport to the fulfilment of my aforementioned wish.

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