Eternal Dreams

Happy New Year, everyone!

It’s 2013- the year we neither dreamed of nor expected to arrive. It’s weird but really I never planned beyond 2012. 2013 was always the future- a distant future. Never really here even when it was doing the Tootsie Roll on my porch. It’s like the previous year was a milestone, a landmark, where we expected something eventful and life-changing to happen. All my expectations and hopes were cemented in that year itself. Beyond that, it was all gray and bleak.  I guess it was not so much about something happening as a basket to unload all my hopes and dreams into. Some of them I accomplished; some were too far-fetched.  And now it’s over. It’s gone and it ain’t coming back. The woven fibers of the basket have been unraveled- all my wishes are now floating around in the universe and I can’t capture them back. I let go of them and I’m never getting them back. I guess, we shouldn’t really put all our dreams in one basket, or year. Maybe if I get a dream-catcher, I will be able seize them back? But it’s probably best to move and weave new dreams, for did Henry David Thoreau not say that

Dreams are the touchstones of our character“?

And aren’t we re-born every second, every moment? Aren’t we ever-changing, evolving and becoming simply more by each passing action of ours and others? Then why should our dreams remain static? We change along with our dreams. We are new; we never get old. And we don’t have the luxury of looking back.  I forgot that. I didn’t let my dreams and wishes and hopes dance and bloom in the events of my life. I caged them lest they be soiled.

“A dream dirty and bruised is better than no dream at all.”

Last night, when we transitioned into this new year, I let go of my dreams for they didn’t want to let go of the past. It is like Erma Bombeck said,

Dreams have only one owner at a time.

Now, I am free. I am not burdened by my rusted dreams of the past that I failed. I can soar. I can fly. I can skim the waves of the ocean on my buoyed wings. And as such, I will dream more dreams; I will make them reality. I will not confine them to a period and time. They will be eternal, like me.

The year, 2013- the one I didn’t dream of nor expected- will be the aerie of my new desires and ambitions.


the Sky must let go, must move on.

You ever get that feeling when you’ve stayed awake all night and read books or spent the time stuffing yourself with really-weird-and-yuck-food-mix that you’ll be ashamed to eat in the light of day for fear that it’ll shun you; the sinking feeling in you gut ’cause you’ve just wasted an entire night, these seven or so extra hours you get when the most of the world(well, on your side) basically doesn’t exist and you’re all alone; time you could have spent prowling the streets for wayward faeries or skimming the rooftops like friggin’ Batman or even creating weird scribbles on the innocent sleepers of your world? Just doing something, anything that you could never do in the morning. Just staying up because the world is sleeping is a fine goal if you’re a bat or an owl, is what I think. But I digress. So you stay up, doing nothing and then you see those first rays of light breaking through the clouds like their personal, extremely comfy blankets that they were cocooned in during the night hours, and you realize what an utter waste you’ve made of those precious hours when time the world stilled for you only. Yeah , well, that’s the sensation I’m getting and not-getting alternately today.  I think about all that I’ve accomplished this year and I feel like a witch flying on her broom among the clouds where no one can see me but only my silhouette, giving the world another urban legend to spread around. Then I think of how my achievements seem in comparison of the world and I feel my witch-self hitting an airplane flying  from Kuala Lumpur to Prague, and watching with a growing trepidation as I fall down my own pseudo-chimney, not quite like Santa, and end up in my own bed, realizing that I just spent the whole night whiling and dreaming away in my own bed, with nothing to  discern my individual personage from all the other snores, for am I not the same as them even if I was awake as I didn’t accomplish anything, same as them? Hell, at least they got to buzz away the exhaustion and fatigue of the previous day. Then, I tell myself,”Baby steps, you fool. Baby steps ” And while I am not an urban-legend, at least I get to fly in the insidious and pervasive sky, with the stars and the moon hindering my way till I fight them out of the welkin.

And before I wing out of the wild blue yonder, I have the pleasure of seeing the world as it begins. I have the chance to witness the initiation of lives of the people who constitute this sphere of happening and happened and will-happen. So, in effect, observing the daily, silent Big Bang that everyone participates in but never really realize or feel it.

Of course, this was all metaphorical and I don’t have a flying broom(oh, how I wish I did!). But this is one year passed and most of us have survived the APOCALYPSE! With many losses, loss of life, loss of great ideas for books as they seep into the wrong pens and quills, loss of childhood and innocence, loss of freedom and loss of ice-cream(it fell on the stairs!), and last but not the least, the loss of Amy Pond and Rory Williams forever. But it wasn’t all bad- there was my birth day and umm… there was this- uh-no–oh-noononono.. Can’t think of anything else. Ah yes! I launched this blog and the other one At the End of the Story . And the Summer Olympics in London, the first Egyptian president was elected- another victory for democracy. Austrian Felix Baumgartner became the first skydiver to go faster than the speed of sound(I swear these aussies have got it all!) and the chickens finally got not what they deserved, but a step in the same direction- ban on battery cages. And I became a high schooler!

2012- it was a year with its highlights and down-lows.  We flew high among the stars before falling-hard– to the ground.

I wish I didn’t have to but we all gotta let go of the past. Let go twenty-twelve, which is, apparently, the most anticipated year of all of history. So pull out the confetti(I know you hide it under your bed) and join in the song-

The ship of past has long passed us by.

Scream to the skies and say goodbye;

Let yourself wander while you search for the way.

Look to the future for the cards yet to play,

And dream of the plans unborn, coming down the pike.

-By yours truly.

And thus the bells jingled all the way as the T.A.R.D.I.S. moved through the Baracoua Bay.


In the wintry glaciers of the Arctic, in the niches and abysses and fissures, where even the mighty panserbjørne(armored polar bears) refrain from entering lest the little annoying creatures with little bells on their green caps appear, a general riding of chaos is going on. the Santa helpers are scurrying about and messing with the reindeer. The reindeer are taking a bit of R&R after spending all most of the previous night prowling through the streets of Salem and Hartford(Santa’s fave places- he likes to reminisce how he saved the poor Alice Young and other witches from being burned at the stake) in full ninja-stealth mode, which takes up a lot of energy no matter how many power bars and boosters you have in your backpack. The elves are exploiting their overbearing, obsessive-compulsive boss’s temporary insanity as much as they can. They know that this relapse will not last long- this ain’t the first time after all. He returns after going on crazy binges soon as he remembers that he has elves to drive into the snowy dirt with gift-making. Same goes for the reindeer. They might not have to fly during the rest of the non-X’mas year but they are the muscle of the company. The horned creatures are thinking of maybe flying to Hawaii this summer as Mr Claus will be too busy scolding and punishing the elves for lazing off while he was away to pay them much heed. Mrs Claus is preparing for the inauguration of her Snow Queen Spa and can’t find her cookie detector. Now, she is madder than ever for she’s just found a note from her shameless husband that he has taken it to root out all the home-made cookies from the store-bought. The monster Frankenstein is trace Sasquatch’s Big FootSteps to his secret lair but “they are just too damn large for my magnifying lass to follow!” The Candy Canes are in a snafu, trying to bar the snowmen and women from getting to the the Gingerbread-man’s house- the oven. It’s a mad, mad, mad, mad world in the Arctic.

How this came to be, you wonder? Where the heck is Santa? Why is the that guy so grim?

Answer number three: That guy is so grim because he is dead and wearing a stupid hat.

Answer number two: Santa is hand-gliding in Rio.

Answer number one: For that I’ll have to tell you a tale. A tale of the Doctor, outspoken flying lizards and a lazy elf.


4 days ago, while Santa Claus was on his merry way to buy some warm milk, whistling cheerfully after a particularly rowdy fight  mild debate with Mrs Claus regarding his recently cultivated tendency to leave bugs in her underwear drawer, he was interrupted by the beauteous and majestic sight of a  green-and-blue lizard flying against a backdrop of aurora sky. He stared and stared at the creature; and he saw that it was not so much flying as gliding. He looked upon it and it was revealed to him that he was disabled. For he had to depend on his over-excited reindeer for air-travel. There must be a disability in him for why would evolution teach a lizard such techniques- a beast that had no real use for it in the wider sphere of things- but not him- the Father Christmas, who had a cosmic obligation to the kids of the world? Instead, he had to depend on his beasts who could never remember the right routes and thousands of kids around the world were bereft of gifts every year. It was so unfair!

So he moved on, grumbling and cursing evolution and life in general when he was once again interrupted. But this time, it was a wayward elf who went by the name of Kazukto. this enraged Father Claus even further. Why was this elf rambling and ambling about when Christmas was only a few days later? He stomped over to the smirking elf, who was doodling with a candy cane in the dirt. But before he could say anything, the elf asked, “Why were you staring so dismayingly at  Ikimbo the Flying Lizard?”

Santa, being very naive and not recognizing this very obvious attempt at changing the subject, thought that his helper must really be interested in his well-being and told him his reflections.

Kazukto, being very cunning and indolent, saw this perfect opportunity to get rid of Santa for a few weeks. And if some bratty kids didn’t get a teddy, then so what? There’s always next year. So he fished out his Ipad and connected it to the Net. Then he googled techniques of flying incorporated by adventurous humans and brought up a picture of a hand-glider, suspended thousands of feet in the  air. Kazukto showed it to his boss, whose face experienced a range of expressions from confusion to enlightenment to disbelief to want-it-for-last-christmas in a few seconds.

Santa Claus forgot all about his moral and cosmic obligations to children and shook Kazukto until he spewed out the details of hand-gliding, reading out loud from his Ipad. Claus dropped Kazukto, who stared at him balefully, and was gone so fast that even the eyes of the elf couldn’t follow him. But the eyes were not paying attention anyway; they were daydreaming about their newly obtained vacation. Kazukto smiled evilly and raised a hand in farewell to no one in vicinity.

When the news reached the main base, there was so much joy in the air. Various creatures tore the gift-wraps, destroyed the miniature cannon replica, murdered Barbies. Mrs Claus raced about trying to find red ribbons and a pair of scissors. And so it went on till the night of Christmas Eve.

The night before Christmas was a grim one. No one knew what to do. Santa was gone- who would deliver the toys now? No one could commandeer the ship but Santa. Beasts and objects alike brainstormed till one little Snowchild found the answer, which was the Doctor! Her exact words were,”We should call the Doctor and the T.A.R.D.I.S.” After several heated discussions regarding the latest flavor of Gingerbread-man’s buttons, it was agreed upon that the child, whose name was Raleyia, was absolutely right.

So they called upon the Doctor, joining hands and tails and screaming, “There’s a monster I my bed!” till a blue box appeared in their midst. Actually that was just for show- Mrs Claus has a flair for the dramatic. While the iditots were doing their idiotic things, Raleyia fished out the Doctor’s number and phoned him.

And the Doctor materialized for he could never resist Earthlings in distress.


So this year kids and adults alike, don’t leave out cookies and milk but Fez’s and bow-ties. And even if you didn’t receive your gift today, know that someday best before the next X’mas, even if you didn’t celebrate this one, The Doctor will appear in the night and present you with something wonderful because the T.A.R.D.I.S. does its timey-wimey stuff and it doesn’t always function like The Docto want it to. I wonder what my gift would be?

You see, Santa vanished and gave us the Doctor. Makes me think sometimes that everything just might happen for our own good.