Sing me the song of a lad that is gone,
Say, could that lad be I ?

Wow…RL Stevenson is my man. He sums up all the things that I have been pondering over years. Wondering when exactly did I GROW up? Become an adult from a young girl? Just when did my merry vagabond soul get overshadowed by my cynic, logical one? Questions buzz around me like winged insects, but with answers nowhere in sight. I am more puzzled than ever.

Was it when I started questioning my gran whether Krishna REALLY opened his mouth to show the universe to his angry mother? Or when I realized that the world was not strictly black and white as I had imagined and the good and the bad are not so easily distinguishable and that the world is infused with multiple shades of gray.

Was it when I stopped looking at cute boys and thought “WOW”? Or was it when I stopped believing in true love and happily ever after stories?

Was it when Backstreet Boys, Alisha Chinoy, and BoyZone made way for Billy Joel,John Denver and Gulam Ali or when Mills and Boons, Nancy Drew and Archies slowly stepped aside the pedestal for Kahlil Gibran and Oscar Wilde.

I still remember the times my mom chastised me for my loud laughter, but when was the last time I smiled? I mean actually SMILED? From the soul to the eyes to the mouth? If this is adulthood, I don’t want to be an adult. I want to be all dreamy eyed again about that neighborhood cute boy, believe in people falling in love not out of it. I want to read everything that restores my faith in humanity and human beings. I want to step into a Harry Potter kind of magical world, where good is GOOD and bad is just that. BAD. I want to let my soul free of the cage that is currently holding my soul a captive in the preconceived notions, preset limits and predetermined course of thoughts.

I want to believe in my dreams. I want to soar to new heights, I want to dream.