Has the beauty of flying birds in the blue-sky inspired man to fly? Or was he fascinated by the idea of seeing the earth from above? Not sure. But surely inescapable gravity has defied his dream.
December 17, 2003. A chilly winter morning in North Carolina.
Two brothers set out to complete their work unfinished three days earlier. With 40 feet long wingspan of the flyer, the two sons of a clergyman smitten by the flying principle of a toy helicopter, set out to the gravity-defying experiment. First time they flew in air over 100 feet for 12 seconds. Twelve long seconds disobeying the pull of gravity. Next attempt – 120 feet. Another one. 200. Before they called it a day, they had a 59-second flight to arrive 852 feet away. Without any baggage.
With 40 feet long wings, man has become bird on that December morning. Dream made man fly.
After 77 years, it was another December. 500 miles away from the spot where Wright brothers did their experiment. Something too dramatic was carried out.
Four bullets from a 25-year-old security guard punctured the back and shoulders of John Lennon. John Lennon. The founder of the Beatles. The Beatles who invented (and catapulted to) global stardom in pre-internet era when the world was yet to be flat. In his song “Watching the Wheels”, Lennon has a line “People say I’m crazy”. People were crazy for him. Six days after his death in 1980, about thirty thousand people paid tribute in Liverpool, and about one quarter of a million people gathered in New York.
The shooter, Mark Chapman was originally a Beatles fan. But was disillusioned by the atheism and strong remarks of the original leader of the Beatles. And shot him down.
Broken dreams and a life were lost!
Dreams are emotional investments on future, broken dreams are like investments turning bad.
December always has something impulsive. Festival. Holidays. Resolutions for new year. And is always delicately balanced between the resolution of the new year and reflection of the one ending soon. Even during these never-ending episodes of pandemic, dreams defy the vulnerabilities of the mortal man. Just like 40-feet long wingspan defying gravity.
Chinese philosopher Zhuangzi had said, “I dreamed I was a butterfly, flitting around in the sky; then I awoke. Now I wonder: Am I a man who dreamt of being a butterfly, or am I a butterfly dreaming that I am a man?”
I wonder: what if any of these dreams is broken? Should we be worried? Then I remember – “Morning moon touch me, so I sing the song of love”.