English Essay -II

Grisab Parajuli 4740 W Mockingbird Ln, Dallas, TX 75209 [email protected] 202-855-8996

April 8, 2021

Yale law school

Yale University 127 Wall St, New Heaven, CT 06511

Dear Admissions Counselor,

They say dreams are the windows to the soul. Whilst some may be skeptical, I agree with the sentiment that an examination of ones’ dreams will reveal a person’s inner workings. Childhood has its own barren secrets and vibrant dreams, yet as we develop more self-awareness, our childhood “dreams” reduce to “silly fantasies”. However, I believe that even as one accepts life’s realities, a dream once sown in the heart will remain with you, imperceptible, mostly subtle - but always there, embossed in the back of our heads. It certainly remained in my case.

As a child I used to dream of becoming a one-man-army, making Nepal into a developed country all by myself. Of course, back then I was probably expressing a child's inherent need to be loved and attended by everyone around through these childish dreams of grandeur. In retrospect, this puerile dream could have been a factor that drove me to the rural hills of “Khokana”; to break a sweat in order to build a community school with fellow volunteers from England. Working in that village, only an hour drive from the capital, helped me bring back the dream I thought had been lost with the burdens of an ageing self. Each day of the thirty seven that I spent there brought about new dimensions to my stream of thought. If I learned the art of masonry, I also learned how it felt to live in a society of simple minds; those that lived for food and those that cultivated the fields to live. It was a roller coaster ride of scintillating emotions; stressed by the physical labor and humbled by the rural smiles. Every night there, as I stargazed from the roof of my two storied mud palace, watching the lanterns blow out one by one in the houses around me, I would genuinely smile within myself and promise myself to make the next day count.

With days, our objectives broadened from the initial "Physical Construction" to include a "Mental Resurrection." I started taking English and Mathematics lessons there. It brought about a new challenge that, to teach English to students who were fighting over how "A" could stand for both "Apple" and "Ant" and mathematics to a group of tenth graders who had never seen a calculator in their lives. I asked a seventh grader once how much three times five was?

"Fifteen" he replied with a beaming smile.

"How much is five times three then?" I asked, only reversing the numbers.

"I haven't gotten to the table of fives yet sir." he replied.

It was a mockery to believe that the capital was only an hour's drive away. After so many years of suppressing the "One man Army" dream and rediscovering it with five foreigners, I suddenly realized how impractical my dream actually was. I would question dreaming then, but I wouldn’t let go of mine, not now that I had the chance to make it true, be it at a much smaller scale. I carried on…building…teaching…socializing…building again. The physical stress mattered less now. It was that sense of dignity and respect that gripped me.

The last day at the village, with our work complete, I looked at the school from a distance, my eyes unable to hide the self-content and pride. As the village gathered at the school compound to bid us farewell, garlanding us and chanting our names, I experienced an emotion so strong, I had to restrain myself from crying. I met the same seventh grader at the gates that day. Before I left, I asked him how much five times thirteen was?

"Sixty-five" he said.

"Thirteen times five?" I asked.

He thought for a moment, and then looked up at me.

"Sixty-five again, sir." he said.

Dreams seem to be ubiquitous and everlasting. We need them to give meaning to our lives; they lead us on a path from our half-remembered past towards an unknown future. With time the naïve childhood fantasy is tempered by experience, by our growing awareness of the limitations of existence. It then transforms into sensible dreams, dreams that we call "aspirations". As I have grown older, my own dream has evolved and changed, I expect that it will continue to do so, but I shall make sure that I never let go of it. It was a child who thought of changing the country alone and this is a man who thinks the same. The only difference is he now realizes that he might need a wee bit of help from other people. Ceteris Paribus.

Regards, Grishav