imagination and existence

Just across my home was a house with windows covered with black sheets. I had heard that it was a house of some lawyer. I was too young at that time. Imagination is a crazy subject. You need more information to create more imagination but more information can cap your imagination at the same time.

My mind painted a picture of the insides of the house in front. I had watched a lot of Hindi movies. Lawyers were big guns of the society dealing with a lot of bad people. I could see many bad people sitting in the room behind those black closed windows. They called him Shukla ji. He was a tall guy in a black and white dress with a brief case in his hand containing lots of money. Once we accidentally confronted each other and he praised me saying I would one day become a very big lawyer. I had never seen him. Neither he ever met me.

Things have changed a lot over past 20 years. He doesn’t live there anymore. I am not sure if he is alive. I am not sure if I am alive, either. I have ran out of imagination. Sometimes I wonder if I could ever imagine like I used to. That makes me anxious. Maybe my brain doesn’t have that capacity anymore, maybe I can never be the same child again. Is it over? Wait.. or have I just become better at imagination but this time in negative way. I worry a lot. That’s some imagination, right ? Should I get happy for the first time about the fact that I worry a lot; I overthink. Is the existential crisis that hits me every night - an imagination but the adult version of it?

I think the lawyer must have died but I am alive. I think therefore I am.