"Paper Planes" By Aditya Singh

Have you ever sat in silence after a long day, staring at the ceiling or an empty cup of tea, and wondered whether the life you lived until now was real or just a dream you once had? The laughter of friends, the rush of first love, and the triumph of a hard-earned success all of it felt so vivid when it happened, yet now it lingers like a distant echo. 

Life unfolds in stages. From childhood to adulthood, and finally to old age, we move through countless experiences. Each moment, each phase, carries its own weight, some as light as a feather, others heavy enough to define our very being. And yet, as the years pass, something strange happens: those very experiences that once made us feel most alive begin to fade, leaving us unsure whether they were ever real at all. 

As children, everything feels new. The first day of school, the thrill of winning a game, the sting of losing a friend these moments carry the sharpness of fresh paint. They stay with us, raw and unfiltered. In our youth and early adulthood, the world expands. We fall in love, chase dreams, stumble, rise, and carve paths. During these times, we are fully present; our emotions run high, and every encounter feels like the very center of existence. 

But as we grow older, life narrows its focus. Work, responsibilities, and routines begin to define us. The profession we choose, or perhaps the one that chooses us, becomes the anchor of our identity. People know us by what we do, not who we are. Slowly, the days begin to look alike. We come home exhausted, only to ask ourselves: Was the life I lived until now a dream, or was it real? This question often arises because memory, unlike experience, is muted. When we were living those moments, whether it was our first achievement, a deep conversation with a friend, or simply watching a sunset that stirred something within us, they felt radiant, alive, and complete. 

Yet, once time moves on and routine reclaims us, those moments lose their sharpness. They turn into shadows, flickering in the background of memory, making us doubt if we ever truly felt them. The first joy of holding a newborn, the rush of a first salary, and the thrill of adventure all eventually dissolve into fragments. Over time, what once defined us can feel like stories belonging to someone else. That realization can be profoundly unsettling, even depressing. 

Once things that were special to us now mean nothing, and maybe our life was shaped by those experiences, but now they are just memories, slowly fading away.