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Day dreaming

By Nickunj Malik - Apr 05,2017 - Last updated at Apr 05,2017

If there were any awards for daydreamers, I would win several of them every time. Actually, I already have won those awards. In my daydreams, that is. For people afflicted with the same problem as me, it can be quite difficult to sift facts from fiction because after a bit, it all gets jumbled up and one has to tread carefully, on the fine line that divides the two, otherwise misrepresentation can occur. 

But let me tell you, the life of a daydreamer is one of utter delight. Here, you can visualise whatever your heart desires and the more creative your imagination is, the more fun you have. There are no unresolved issues because justice is always delivered immediately and accurately in the world of dreams. Also, it is almost always in the dreamer’s favour, and to his/her benefit. 

I can’t pinpoint exactly when I started dreaming with my eyes wide open, but without this tool that I discovered pretty early on in my life, I would not have managed to get through school. Our classes were way too long, now that I think about it, and also too varied, with the countless subjects that we were made to study. Along with the usual English, geography, physics, chemistry, biology, mathematics, history and so on, we also had a moral science class. What was that?

Well, it was a lesson on moral strengthening where students were taught the importance of kindness and unconditional love. It also stressed on developing honesty, compassion, hard work, forgiveness, cooperation, mutual respect and the rest of it. These are good values and should be encouraged but the manner, in which our nuns drilled them into us, was quite objectionable. We had to not only sit through the long lectures, where several examples were provided to highlight each topic, but had to pass a moral science exam too. If we flunked it, there was hell to pay, both at home and at school. Needless to say, daydreaming came swiftly to my rescue during such periods of time. 

As a grownup I went through some unwanted problems when I started my career as a journalist. A lot of inappropriate comments came my way, under the guise of encouraging feedback, from my male colleagues in the newspaper industry. I had to consciously ignore them and plod along, with eyes focused solely on my work. The remarks were not so salacious that they could derail me, but despite being a strong woman, they filled me with unease. 

Retribution came fast in my daydreaming world where the tables were turned, and the ones that harassed me, found themselves squirming in embarrassment. I uttered all the smart and witty rejoinders that I had at my disposal, and there was no need to hold back. I dreamt up such convincing scenarios that there were instances where I got carried away, and started believing my own fiction. 

Moreover, even though I sat through most of my moral science classes in school, in a semi comatose state, some of the teachings did seep inside my brain. 

“Plagiarism charges?” I exclaimed, reading a report about a former journalist.

“Did you know him?” my husband asked. 

“Very well,” I replied. 

“The one who deleted your name from a feature you wrote together?” he queried.

“Exactly. Do you think I am daydreaming?” I questioned. 

“You know what they say,” he prompted.

 

“What goes around, comes around,” I agreed.

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