Moral Short Story – THE DREAM MAN
Photo credit: chamomile from morguefile.com
Milan worked in a BPO. He had got the job of AM Analyst recently through walk in interview and he looked in to sales compensation. The training went off well and he tried his best to check the packages, ensuring the quality in all parameters while maintaining the TAT effectively. However recently he missed an opportunity to get a pat on the back certificate by a whisker which disappointed him a lot. To add to his woes, the MBA-First semester result, the examination which he appeared last April was not getting declared. The world looked monotonous to him. Even the merciful rain in Kolkata, in the month of June was unromantic and deprived him of the pleasure.
It was Monday evening and usual night shift for him in Enova consultancy, the company he worked. He had taken the 6:30 bus from Garia more but no sooner it reached the RUBI junction, it met with a puncture. He got down and was about to board another bus, when he met the Dream seller. The dream seller was a man in mid seventies with white beard, sunken eyes, long nose and the lines on his forehead clearly indicated his experience. He approached Milan with a heartwarming smile and before he could say anything, shook his hands and introduced himself as the Dream sales man.
“Is dream a commodity to be sold in the market? When I sleep I dream of tall buildings, deep seas, beautiful women and lots of money. Is there anything else that you suggest in a dream that is eligible of being sold?”, asked Milan.
“But these dreams are part of your sleep while I deal with dreams that ensure your existence and I know you need a particular dream to fulfill your destiny. Maktub, you know, is a powerful word, which means that all is written but only experienced eyes can read it. I approach a person when he is about to live his dream. But first promise me that you will come with me to the nearby Mala Café, listen to the dream will all your concentration and agree to pay me my eligible fees of rupees hundred. These days when the price of all commodities is increasing, a life changing dream cannot cost anything less.
“But what if it doesn’t get fulfilled? There were so many times in life where I failed. Failed to keep promises, failed in love, in job and in matters of greater importance.”
“It is basically because life required you to learn the lessons that come with defeat and take start again.”
“You know dream man, long ago I had written a poem, which comes to my mind now:
They asked: “What you do with your two little feet?”
I told: “I burn and bake them, so that when others sleep and few others feel to dream big a shame.
I chase the dew drops on the soft bed of grass,
I run hard!”
They say: “What will you get with the gizmos in place,
We have humans who fly robots who sing and brains better than you in race.”
I say: “There are some who laugh, some who cry, some who desire me as best.”
They said: “Never have we seen a man half insane as you;
Why did you choose your two little feet, when others preferred better luck?”
I said: “Never had I imagined my feet would listen when I told:
Never show my adversaries my back!”
“But that was then, now somehow I miss the urge to walk the extra mile.”
“That’s what this dream is for. This will ensure you get an opportunity to showcase your skills, make a subtle but desirable change in the lives of the people you meet, challenge your abilities, meet deadlines, do greater number of packages and win with quality!”
Milan was surprised that the dream seller knew a lot about his life and occupation.
That meeting with the dream man was just for a few minutes but it brought about a quantum change in the attitude of Milan. He had learnt to see the positive side of things, leave nothing to chance and live his passion.
That night was a night of happening. There were errors and escalations all around and pay period 13 was in place but Milan was ready for it. He skillfully implemented the updates, carefully handled the packages and rejected some with valid reason. He surpassed the target but didn’t forget to help his colleagues in need.
When he took a break for smoke he met an old lady who required financial help for the treatment of her nineteen year old daughter in Vellore. Not only he helped but he cascaded the message to others too to come to her rescue.
He remembered the last words that the dream seller had said: “Treat each person in your life with respect and carefully follow the omens and this way you will connect yourself with the soul of the world.”
The next evening he started a little early from his house, got down at RUBI Junction and hoped to find the dream seller to tell him that whatever he had said the previous day had indeed come true but the dream man was nowhere to be seen. The crowded buses, traffic lights, the shops, cats, dogs and the omnipresent beggars had taken his place.
And a thought raised his mind:”We all require a potential dream to change life but every day the dream man will not ignite the senses. He does when it’s written. That’s Maktub.”
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