Once upon a time, there was a writer who wanted to write. He was full of ideas and his mind was always churning new stories and new plots to write.
But the writer was told that there is not enough money in this business and there is a good deal of struggle to even become a mildly successful writer.
The writer was advised to follow a training course, settle in life so that insecurities do not bother him anymore.
After that he could pursue what he wanted.
He followed the advice as it came from wise men and women.
He did what he was told.
He packed his ideas and hibernated them. He learnt the skills that would settle him in life.
Years went by. The settlement took pretty long time.
In fact he found that settlement itself demanded daily grind.
Everyday, without fail, in one form or other.
His children grew up and he wondered if he could give same advice to them.
He wondered if the wise were really wise.
His hair were now gray. He was so settled in the routine that breaking it required even higher form of courage.
Not only he jeopardises settlement he also puts security of the children in danger.
Everyday he wakes up with a dream, every night he sleeps tired.
Ideas were lost somewhere, his mind missed the plots.
The society reduced a talent to mere a skill.