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They called it the city of dreams. A place where lives intersected, ambitions collided and destinies were made or shattered under the blinding brilliance of a million city lights. For Maya, those lights had always been a beacon, a promise that life could be more than her small hometown’s narrow lanes and stifling traditions. She had always imagined herself stepping into this world, arms wide open, ready to claim the future she envisioned. But as she stood at the edge of her tiny apartment balcony, staring out at the sea of neon signs and traffic below, she wondered if the city truly had room for her dreams.
The air was thick with the scent of wet pavement, an aftermath of the evening rain. Cars honked incessantly, and the voices of street vendors selling their last batch of snacks echoed faintly in the background. Maya tugged at the collar of her coat, pulling it closer against the night breeze. The day had been long and tiring. Her job as a junior copywriter at a mid-tier advertising agency, though not glamorous, was her lifeline in this city. Every day, she pushed herself to come up with something fresh, something that would be the breakthrough to earn her place in the industry. Yet, every day, the feedback was the same—“It’s good, Maya, but not quite there.”
She sighed, leaning over the railing, letting the city’s hum drown her thoughts. She had always believed that with enough determination, she could forge her way through. But lately, that determination had started to feel like a burden. Her family back home in Agra kept calling, asking when she’d come for a visit. Her mother’s voice was always tinged with concern, asking her when she planned to “settle down.” The question itself felt suffocating. It wasn’t that Maya didn’t want to have a family someday, but her dreams—weren’t they valid too? Couldn’t she carve out a space for herself before folding into the expectations of marriage and family life?
The next morning, Maya woke up with a strange restlessness. The heavy curtains in her room barely let in the morning light, but she could already hear the familiar sounds of the bustling streets below. Her phone buzzed incessantly on the bedside table—notifications from work, family WhatsApp groups, her best friend Priya asking if she was still alive after ghosting her for the past few days.
She stared at her phone for a few moments, debating whether to respond or to let the world believe she was just fine. In a city so densely populated, it was easy to feel invisible. And that’s what Maya had been doing for weeks now—blending into the crowd, mechanically going through the motions of her workdays, and avoiding questions about her future, even from herself.
But today felt different. She didn’t know if it was the remnants of last night’s thoughts still clouding her mind or the incessant rain pattering against the window, but something inside her stirred—a quiet rebellion against the passivity she’d fallen into. She couldn’t stay like this. She couldn’t let her dreams slip away in the monotony of everyday struggles.
She thought about the people she worked with, the ones who seemed to have their lives together. They came in every morning, immaculate in their tailored clothes, with their spotless portfolios and their sharp, confident smiles. What did they have that she didn’t? Was it money, connections, luck? Or was it just the unwavering belief in themselves?
By midday, Maya found herself in a quiet café nestled between two old buildings in a forgotten corner of the city. The café had large windows, offering a view of the rain-slicked streets where people rushed by, huddled under umbrellas. She watched them absentmindedly as she sipped her coffee.
( To be Continued)
Rajat Chandra Sarmah
Guwahati , Assam , India
8/10/2024
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