The Boy Who Forgot to Dream
Aarav was never the loud one, never the rebellious one. From a very young age, he understood things children weren’t supposed to—things like sacrifice, silence, and the heaviness in his father’s eyes after a long day. He never asked for much. He accepted whatever was given. He loved his parents deeply, especially his father, who was strict but hardworking, a man shaped by his own struggles and expectations.
But love, Aarav would learn, is not always kind.
His father measured worth in marks and obedience, in comparisons with cousins and classmates, in the kind of achievements that could be spoken of proudly to neighbors. And when Aarav failed to meet those expectations—when he scored average marks or made small mistakes—his father’s words didn’t correct him; they cut him. Harsh, unforgiving, public words. And the deepest wound of all came not from a beating, but from a sentence whispered in shame: “If you don’t study, go wash dishes and repay my money.”
Over time, Aarav stopped trying. Then, he stopped speaking. And eventually, he stopped dreaming.
Because when every effort is met with criticism, when every step forward is shadowed by comparisons, when even your smallest joys are brushed off as “useless”—you begin to believe that maybe joy was never meant for you. Maybe you’re only here to survive, not to live.
The Boy Who Forgot to Dream is a tender, heart-wrenching coming-of-age story that explores the quiet battles children fight behind closed doors. It speaks to every person who’s ever felt unseen, unheard, or never enough. Through Aarav’s lonely journey—from silent obedience to emotional numbness—it asks a painful question: What happens to a child who’s never allowed to fail?
