The Dreamer

The old man smiled at his neighbour. She pretended to be engrossed in the magazine she was reading. "You know, I've been flying for almost 7 years now and the in-flight reading of this airline is probably the worst ever!" He said as he grinned. The young girl smiled politely and looked out the window, making it clear that she did not intend to engage in conversation. "Isn't that such a wonderful view!" said the old man, still taking no hints to her apparent disinterest. She looked him squarely in the eye, glaring and pulled down the blind. The old man chuckled. Looking straight ahead, he said in a low voice, "You know I had a dream last night, I was among the clouds, soaring along." She bit her tounge to keep from replying, and looked with more intensity into the magazine she was thumbing through. "Khalil Gibran once said 'Yesterday is but today's memory, and tomorrow is today's dream.'" the old man continued, as if unaware of the irritation he was causing the girl, "Wonderful things dreams are. I always believed in them, since I was a kid. They say Dreams are God's way of telling you your heart's deepest desires.".

"Dreams are a waste of time!" shot back the girl, before she could stop herself, "Life is a tragedy for dreamers,a comedy for doers and a reality for achievers!" she said, her face glowering with anger "All these fairy tales are to amuse kids and grown ups stupid enough to believe in them. Dreams are for losers. Those who cannot dare to do, dream.". "You mean you never had a dream? In your entire life?" asked the old man. " She shifted in her seat, looked him in the eye and lied "No!". "Liar Liar pants on fire" chuckled the old man. "I think you had a dream broken so bad, you are afraid of dreaming again. It's made you cynical hasn't it?". She started sobbing. Memories started flooding her eyes and she cried. For the first time in years she cried like a little girl. The old man just kept staring ahead. "We announce the arrival of the flight to Bangalore. We should be able to land in approximately 10 minutes." the pilot's voice boomed out bringing her back to the present. She excused herself to the washroom. She washed her face and looked in the mirror. Then she smiled. She went back to her seat, relieved and light. She smiled at the old man as she got back into her seat. "Thank you" she said as the announcement was made and the seatbelt signs went on. The old man grinned at her "Thank yourself. You have your whole life ahead of you." he said mysteriously.

The old man was out of his seat as soon as the flight landed. He was the first to get off. She looked through the window as he waved to her. She waved back.

"Hey! You are writing again!" said Smitha as she walked in to see her on the table. "Finally! So you are going to finish your book?" she asked. "Yes. I don't care if it doesn't get published. I needed to finish it." "But your job? You said you didn't have the time" said Smitha. She tossed an envelope at Smitha. "Oh my God! You... Resigned?" asked Smitha, only to be greeted by a grin. "The stranger who taught me to dream again." she wrote, the last short story in her book. She smiled as she sipped her tea.

"...and that is why Dreams are so important. They say Dreams are God's way of telling you your heart's deepest desires. So dare to dream and dare to act upon them. Thank you." The speech was greeted by a thunderous applause. "Ma'am" asked one of the reporters, "Is it true that your last short story 'The stranger who taught me to dream again' is a real life incident?" She grinned and nodded. "How does it feel to be the author of a best selling book?" asked another. "Like a dream come true." she replied.

She smiled for the cameras once more as she walked back to her car. "Thank you" she said, to no one in particular.