(A true story from Quora) Question: “What made you sad?”
The most-liked answer by Abhinav Deshmukh:
Recently, I forgot my email password. The security question (set years ago) was, “Who did you want to be when you grew up?”
But I couldn’t remember my original answer…
Could it be that so many changes have piled up that we end up forgetting what our simplest, most primal dreams even were? I once startled myself flipping through an old yearbook I’d written for a friend in 6th grade. My dream back then? “To get lost in a field of flowers.” Can you believe I was ever that goofy? 😀
When I was little—maybe kindergarten or early elementary—I was close with a girl from my neighborhood. She’s probably forgotten I even exist by now. A lot’s happened in the past decade or so, and it’s easy to let childhood slip away. We used to chat about who we’d become when we grew up. Some days I’d say I’d be a princess, other times a lawyer fighting for the poor, or maybe a gentle, beautiful teacher. There was even a phase where I’d be a filmmaker. Out of all those, only the filmmaker idea stuck with me. But here I am now—not a filmmaker.
I think back to being a kid, stepping out onto the school’s sports field. It felt so huge, so endless. I’d imagine all sorts of wild things filling that giant space—castles, balloons, massive hot air balloons floating grandly overhead for everyone to gawk at in awe. Then I visited the national stadium, and wow, how childish my old self seems now.
When we’re young, before life weighs us down with worries, our dreams are so carefree and full of joy. I’m reminded of a scene from The Pursuit of Happyness. The father and son, with nowhere to sleep, sit in a subway station at night. The kid points to his dad’s bone density scanner and says the homeless guy was wrong—it’s not a time machine. The dad tells him to press the black button, close his eyes, and they’ll travel back in time. In their minds, they’re off to the dinosaur era, running from the subway bench to the bathroom to crash for the night.
Looking back on childhood, those innocent things I used to tell my old best friend might just be fleeting images in my head—beautiful, useful people making the world better. But at least back then, I dared to dream and say it out loud. That tiny school sports field? It was my whole world, and I ruled it—not like the national stadium today.
Time marches on, and you can’t claw it back. So instead of feeling sad about those old dreams, maybe we should smile, let them warm us with happiness, and use them as fuel for the good things still ahead.