For those who have persistence and who dedicate themselves to the pursuit, every mirage turns out to be a living, woven dream that can be touched, felt and sensed with bare hands. Meanwhile, life keeps on creating and recreating targets and dreams so perfectly for us. And so, life moves from one mirage to another, propelling us, goading us to move on to take those few extra steps to reach and touch the vision. Targets become achievable, only to turn into still bigger ones, as we end up breaking the myth of unattainability. The mirage of life keeps the excitement bubbling and the enthusiasm in churn, giving us the impetus to move forward with hope as we keep trudging the path. But as I get close to the make-believe impression of water it disappears yet makes its existence palpable a little nearer, a little farther, but to my eyes, always within reach. In this case, driving a little more to be amidst the coolness, is the promise that fools my eyes.
You sometimes believe that there is something better, something bigger in life that is awaiting ahead and I only have to take the plunge and touch it. My weary eyes, in the shades, watch this utopia. On hot summer days, the road surfaces often give the impression of water tantalisingly dancing before your eyes, in a mirage on the tarmac.
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