Pazzage Editorial | October 2018

Dreams are what make us think of what we have and what we want to have. 

I was a dreamer from my early childhood. I dreamt of a fancy garden which we never had. I despised the Mangrove, the Guava trees, the pond we had and the livestock that created the cacophony around my childhood. My mind was full of the well laid out greenish landscapes that I had seen in a European Magazine. The tales I read from the Radiant Reader added to another layer of my dreams of being in a western world. What caught my eye was the order, the mechanized patterns and the quiet demeanor of the populace. 

Several years later, on that first flight to Europe, I was impatient to get there; to be part of that order. I wanted to be at the River Thames where Shelly stood watching the waters ebb and retreat. I stood at the Piccadilly Circus where a certain Bernard Show visualized his My Fair lady. Even a trip to the Tavern, where my favorite Beatles played didn’t seem to be quite where my dreams had taken me.  In a week into my European journey, I was desperate to return to my land.

My land, the chaos, the colors, the disorder and the madness that made us who we are. I saw another order in the disorder of my own home. The Trees, the bees and even the flowers that didn’t attract my attention all those years suddenly seemed to be like shrines and monuments and unbelievably emotionally bound to me. The smelly pond suddenly became a robust activity area where the fishes were never fished out anymore. The hens suddenly became my friends and so did my Grandma’s cat Jimmy. I had found out where I belonged. My dreams had taken me back. 

I am glad that I belong here, where my dreams are firmly rooted. And I know someday I will see them fulfilled. 

Sujil Chandra Bose