Broken Dreams

Roll it back to childhood stage when you just entered your teen.life was good,the whole neighbourhod knew you,calls to see when you pass by to check on your folks and update how they doing. you walk proudly with your football for the evening games in the colony.you walk with your new shoes that your father bought u.you get this unexplainable good feeling within your body.you flaunt from time to time and stop and take a break to admire and rouse the same feeling that you felt the time your skin felt against the shoes,coz it feels good.Those were the when you didnt know and bothered if the shoes go with your clothes or what u were wearing to justify your new shoes. no fashion statements coz it was a gift your dad gifted you, it was his love.
you worshiped your dad n mom for being there and when the new shoes gave a bite n tore your ankle skin, theyfetched you bandage n dressed your wound with antiseptic cream and most importantly the faith n prayers that it shuld get ok soon,,sooner enough that you forget it pained while you walked. you have your own room now and you feel proud to hang 'Guns N roses' wallpaper on the side of the wall you face while you fall asleep in your fluffy bed. you are glad your folks are there to share the portion of their bed when it thunders in the night or when you have watched some freakishly disturbing scenes from then famous 'evil dead' movie and could'nt sleep alone as most of the time is spent on checking the space under your bed, the closet, you welcome your imaginary self ghost and you belief questioning "what if....". Then you got licence for two wheelers, and you can ride your dad's bike full time as dad retires from the legacy to ownership.you spend your days making modifications and in the nite you catch up with your gang and describe the hardship you went through for the fixation. you dont have cash but you always make it to sneak in and get hold of some changes to spend for the day. your sinful act always backed up with your self created explanation,"dad wont know there is reduction in usual weight of his front pocket its just some changes. the whole solid cash still hanging, hugging dad's pocket.he really would'nt mind". you first smoked and you thought you will outwit your dad with the smell by chewing bubble gum,but you know its nt true. the first booze you had and escaped small accident with just some bruises and torn pant, but looking at the brighter side your bike is still in one piece you console your hurting and pain. your first girl friend and you try hard not to get it disclosed,you hide her love notes, cards and seemingly lovey-dovey small toys in a box and name your box with some ethical nomenclature that will never cause suspicious and dragging force to your sibblings to open it.your first kiss shared with her while holding handsyou remember every detail from the time it was in your watch to which clothes you were wearing.
its cultural function tomorrow in the school and you were part of the band. you struggle with the sleep as you plan whats gonna happen and replace un-noticed undesirable events the you didnt see before and you can feel there is a bulge in your stomach that feels funny everytime when you picture yourself in the centre of the stage and this attractive girl you've been wanting to ask out is looking at you play,with a smile and the eyes meeting each other is noticed with a shyness. you feel sad coz its time to leave your folks as you pack your bags for the heck of higher studies. you wrap your clothes and your mom scolds you for not ironing the shirts that you been wearing in the new alien town.your dress defines you now,it represents your folks and the way you were brought up.you look at your worn out bike and all the memories flash in the backgound like a techicolor matrix movie where your bike was a part of event-triple carry's n caught by police for that,borrowing money from friend who dont see hopes to see it again, to repair your bike,your ride with your girl friend where you intentionally bump on speed braker so that she comes near and hold you tight to adjust her weight, it feels good. you thank your dad for the memories inside you and you feel proud that you kept the legacy alive,you played your part well. you walk into your room to turn off the lights but stop to catch a look at it-the first drawing you pasted on the walls,the time you struggled to change the dead bulb,the time you changed the position of your bed to make it look flashy.you took care of this room and now you have nothing to say to it coz it wont reply back with a hug.you turn to your mother and suddenly you feel your throat chocking and the bile revolting against your will,churning your stomach with the splendid food your mom prepared exclusively for you and you culd taste it in your mouth. you dont feel good and you notice the wrinkles in your mothers face for the first time. you try not to blink coz that mite release the tears off your eyes and you would'nt want your mother to see you in this vulnerable situation,you never cried since your teenhood specially when mother was spectator. you hug her and move on,never turning back to see her face coz you know its her who have tears and you are not ready to see her that way, breathing was'nt so difficult and you force yourself to catch one.heart fails to pump usual blood capacity as you can feel your forehead veins dancing.your hand releases sweat which are dry.your legs feel heavy coz you are moving out in an alien place leaving the protection of your family. Now all those events comes to your head while you get drunk with your buddies and start cursing your life,but hardly repenting on wasted years and trust was the price coz you still dont know what you are doing out of your life,depend on monthly allowance that your father sends and you host a party for your buddies,buy gifts for your girl friends and your folks have no idea about it. you curse the system which is running the govt like its unwanted tumour, yet you are part of it.
you dont care enough...