CHILDHOOD DREAM

vjt and volks yellow

When I was a kid, I drooled whenever a Volkswagen car would pass by.  I thought that driving one was almost reaching heaven.  For me it was tantamount to attaining holiness, the apex of faith, the culmination of everlasting life.  Having a toy car however was nearest that aim.

It was never easy.  When I asked my father if he could buy a car, his reply was snappy, he cannot because he does not know how to drive one.  He had a point.  I could not own one also because I cannot drive either.

My father gave me a suggestion instead.  He said that I should study hard in school, read books so that one day if I will be employed, I would get paid and from there I could buy a car of my choice.   Once I get one, I will be compelled to learn in driving it.  It was as easy and as simple as that.

And so I went inside my room and started pouring over the books, tried to be attentive in school, even tried harder for some extracurricular activities until I realized that my dream of owning a Volkswagen had fizzled off.  The volks no longer attracted attention.  There were lots of car models to choose from.  I lost interest too in toys and got more hooked on reading.  At that time, I dreamt of being a writer.

But as soon as I visit one library after another, I thought that the field of literature was already over populated.  There were a lot of authors, a lot of writers, brilliant ones at that and if at all I would include my warm body, it would just be too much.  No more writing for me.

And so I traversed the path towards Arts.  It was an exciting proposition.  Besides, I had the inclination, the patience and talent.  I could instantly follow the style of the masters; I could immediately mix and blend colors.  The problem however is that there was too much creativity required and I had no insane part of my body to exude that quality.  And so I reverted to sculpture.  Only a few artists can navigate such consuming branch of art.  I went further.  I worked on bust sculpture, on portrait sculpture.  After all, there was only a handful of masters in this craft.  Unfortunately, there was also little revenue in it.

I coasted along and after a brief period in the academe with little exposure in arts, I settled to work in government.

Year after year, I ascended towards a higher post until I became a supervisor.  With enough savings from my allowances, deducting personal necessities, books and art materials, I was able to save something for what I intend to own.

At that time, the cost of living could only accommodate so little.  And since I cannot buy prestige, could not afford to publish my works neither could compete in an expensive foray in arts, I thought of rummaging the nearest junkshop.

And lo and behold, there was this poorly parked car, an aged, run down Volkswagen.  I plucked out my savings and bought it.  I pulled it out and tried to inject life into it.  I offered what I learned, the patience of writing, the interest in arts and the audacity of a government worker.  In a month’s time, the Volks had gained a life of its own.

Owning and driving one made my childhood dream a reality after all.

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About vjtesoro

A perpetual student of Corrections

Posted on June 28, 2016, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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