The Library of Unfinished Dreams
- By Vani Jain - XI C
- Sat,25 Oct 2025
When I picture it, the library isn’t grand or silent. It’s small, maybe even a little messy. The air smells faintly of petrichor — that soft, earthy scent after the first rain. Some books look loved, their pages turned so many times that the corners have softened. But in a quiet corner, a few lie untouched. Their covers are worn, their titles fading, as if they’ve been waiting for someone to remember them. That corner feels familiar. Because I think all of us have a library like that not one built of wood and paper, but of moments and beginnings. It’s where we keep the things we once started but never quite finished. A sketch that stopped mid-line. A song with only the first verse. A story idea that lives in the notes app, half-formed but never forgotten. For a long time, I thought those things were signs of giving up. But now I see them differently. Maybe unfinished dreams aren’t failures maybe they’re just pauses. Reminders that at some point, something sparked enough curiosity in us to begin. And maybe that’s the most human part that we start things not because we’re sure of where they’ll go, but because, for a moment, we want to create something that feels like us. Sometimes, I imagine walking into that library in my mind. I dust off the corners, pick up one of those forgotten books, and flip through the pages. I don’t rush to finish it. I just smile at how it began with excitement, with wonder, with possibility. I don’t think I’ll ever finish every story I start. But maybe that’s alright. Maybe the half-drawn sketches and half-written sentences are proof that I once felt something deeply enough to try and that, in itself, feels like a complete story. Perhaps the library of unfinished dreams isn’t meant to be complete. Maybe it’s meant to stay open, a place where every beginning still breathes, waiting for the right moment, or the right version of us, to return and continue the story. Because the library of unfinished dreams isn’t a place of regret. It’s a reminder that we’ve lived, tried, and dared to start and that there’s still so much left waiting to be discovered.