I remember in my fifth grade we used to get writing assignments every Monday on any random topic that our teacher chose for us. The instructions: It should be at least two pages long. No big sentences. No repeating the same words more than three times. For an imaginative child like me and few of my friends, it was no big deal. Usually that used to be a homework that should be submitted by Friday.
My friends and I used to meet at my place every Monday evening to discuss the stories. We were three of us who used to literally come up with three times the stories. We could actually write for the entire class. So we made a pact. We bought a diary for each one of us where we used to write all the stories that would come to our minds throughout the week. The one we liked the best, would go for the assignment. Later after a month or two, we realized that we have actually become authors to our own collection of short stories.
This remained a forgotten secret until one day we graduated high school and went our separate ways. Of course, we made promises to stay connected and we are still in touch (its been many summers).
I have always had jobs that made me travel so airports and airplanes are quite vital in my memory lanes. One such flight, reminded me of the diary. I had once written a story about clouds and to my surprise, the clouds outside exactly looked like the one I described in the opening line.
The dream whisperer, outshone by the Sun
I am a free spirit in the sky.
This was 3 years ago. Since that flight, I made it a point to carry that diary and flip through the pages of this time capsule every time I travel.
I enjoyed the perks of travelling since the time I can go back to my memories, thanks to my parents who chose vacations as a mandatory lifestyle preference. Flights somewhere never bothered me. Sure I still get a sinking feeling in my stomach once it takes off, but after that, its an escape to the fairyland that never exists.