I have always been a dreamer.

But, these days I am not even able to sleep properly. A constant irritation itches on in my mind and I know not where it comes from. As a child, our own Doctor Uncle used to point out that diagnosis was pivotal to medication. I somehow found a deeper meaning in those words in connection to our daily lives even when I was a teenager. No wonder then that I got hooked to taking  "counselling sessions" of friends and followers. Boys and girls found an eager listener in me, and at the end of a long session of artless candour I would settle down to spray my sermons on them. Eventually, I got good at it. My words were often interspersed with vignettes of adult wisdom and placid maturity. I even developed a impassive style while speaking on the "most bitter-to-the-ears" issues to my subjects. Before I was into my third year in college I was quite a known "soothesayer" of sorts.

My ego latched onto that window of pride and soon, I had many from outside my immediate circle of friends flocking to me for "suggestions". Most "cases" were love related, some a touch more serious owing to the involvement of parents in the imbroglio, others simply "candy-floss" stuff .....the ususal " she loves me....she loves me not... ????" queries. These were the "cases" I slowly grew to be tired of because of their repetitive quality and lack of associated sub-plots. Interesting "problems" surfaced with time. A brother being too pushy at home, a domineering father or a overprotective mom intruding into the forsaken territory of teenage privacy. Some I was quick to respond to, to some I had no cure. Still, after  every such session accompanied with the characteristic intake of umpteen number of chaai and samosas in the college canteen I subconsciously started nurturing a philanthropic satisfaction inside me. It gave me a sense of fulfilment to be of help to others, some friends..... some distant. But, today when I suspect if I am suffering from hypochondria, stress or insomnia I hardly have a soul at hand to help. A person who can sort a few knots of my mind and my life. Someone whom I can fall back upon for few words of reassurance and comfort. Even today some of my old buddies, some married and some yet to tie the knot ring me up to keep me updated of their account of woes. Out of habit I blabber out possible solutions. Some call back to let me know of the efficacy of my advice. Some just forget. Typically so.

I wonder if being the "shrink" back those days has robbed me off a "helpline-to-happiness" today.