It’s a wonderful dream about an altogether different world. But you shrug off the devil that tempts you to continue the slumber; find strength to open your eyelids and find the reserve energy stored somewhere in the deep valleys of your mind. Hope does the trick. Hope of making the dream come true in this world of yours.
Your kid cries as you prepare to leave for another excruciating day in the mines. Your charred palms cajole the apple of your eyes. Hope drives you back to the mines to ensure that the fate written on your kid’s palms is better. Hope that you will be home tonight to see your kid sleeping peacefully.
As you enter the train, you see lots of luggage everywhere. You hope that none of the bags has letters from the messengers of death. You hope that lady luck has not sowed yet another tragedy in the life of your loved ones.
Each breath in the dark alleys of the mine takes you a step closer to death. Your lungs plead for some respite from the hard taskmaster that you are. But you hope that each breath here takes you a step closer to the day when you breathe to your heart’s content in the clear blue skies outside.
On your way back home, the hope of being transported to a world where all sorrows sit light tempts you to have one glass too many of the intoxicating wine sold in a shack at the road side. Tumbling on your way home, mumbling in your sleep, you lie preparing for another day...
