18/08/2016, Vadodara

Dear Dream Girl,

Firstly, I would like to welcome you to the world. I didn’t know what to call you and let me introduce myself to you. I am not any extra ordinary girl. I am like every other individual who leads a normal life, but my dreams? No, they are not normal. They are the ones that made me insomniac, which made me restless, the ones which I wish to fulfill in future. May be that’s why I want to call you what I can’t or want to be; who knows? We will come to that later. Unlike other girls these weren’t just dreams of getting my prince charming, not even to become a doctor or an engineer, but a selfless dream to become a ‘Writer’.

I am sixteen, tall heighted, with long, thick, black hairs and beautiful eyes (I think so, at least!). My name is Nandini. You must be having fair amount of questions why I am writing to you Dream girl- a fictitious element I gave birth to with real persons around me, with real beings in this world. See, now that is where the irony is- real world is not real and fictitious is real to me. At least you really listen to me all ears with no complaints attached.


This thought of writing to you started all when I had just completed 10th boards and waiting for results to get declared. I was sitting and wondering just like rest of the people, what will I do in future, what career to choose. Honestly, I am an average student and didn’t even aim to ace boards. I had my world of literature; Shakespeare words gave me adrenaline rush which people got in math’s and science. Few days later results got declared and I scored 75%. My parents happily got me admission in arts, I jumped with all energy in me with dreams of becoming the greatest ever writer and my world was a fairy land.

If you believe all above written was true, then I am sorry I am a good writer that I made believe you everything. Like all the other parents, mine also asked me to join science and become a doctor. Like hot summer days outside, I had heated arguments, discussions with my parents and I fought with each fiber of mine like a wounded soldier who won’t refuse to lose the battle. (Writer you see!)  But, finally I was shredded to pieces and was given commerce as only option for my survival to which I had to agree.

I started my high school with a dilemma whether I took a right decision or not? What if I give up like a coward before completing high school? What if I am not able to do something in future? What about my dreams? And just like the now gloomy, rainy days outside my room; the gloominess hovered my mind. Will I be a dream girl?

By Bhavisha Makhijani

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