After a long and exhausting day and whenever I have free time, I would usually solace myself by sitting alone in one corner under a dark sky illuminated by twinkling, little stars. Whenever I get lucky, I would usually spot a falling star which will be gone long before I close my eyes to mumble a wish. Most of us would agree that the joy of childhood prompts us to believe in the beauty of wishes. But our childhood never taught us that the power of making our wishes a reality lies in our own hands, if only we are committed to dramatically turn it into a stunning reality. When I was a little, I remember myself wishing of things like “choco bread,” “brake grames,” or a “bicycle.” Later, these would be like “good grades,” “good health,” “a complete and happy family,” or even “knowledge,” following a hard-day struggle with algebra. Everybody in the class would agree that I have a hate-hate relationship with Mathematics, to the fact that I am cursing it to death. Looking back, it made me realized how simple dreams transformed into big ones. The star-gazing sessions stroked a chord in me to dream and to dream big time.

Just a little while ago after eating my self-prepared dinner, I stayed
for about an hour looking up to the astronomical wonders twinkling in a
backdrop of a black sky. Just like the old times, it elicited that sense
of relaxation—finding yourself waiting for a star to fall then make a
snappy wish. I never sighted one earlier but the sixty minutes I spent
outside with pesky mosquitoes gave me the idea of the universality of
making wishes and the elicit pursuit for happiness. All across the
globe—may it be in Korea, in Europe, in the States or even in the
forgotten corners of Africa—young and old ones alike would testify to
the veracity of this claim.