Dream Big (A Dramatic Monologue) Poem by ashok jadhav

(The stage is wide and dim. A faint horizon of light glows at the back, as if something vast waits beyond it. The speaker stands center stage, eyes lifted—not to the sky, but to possibility itself.)
They told me—
Be realistic.
They said it gently,
like advice,
like concern,
like protection.
But I heard something else.
I heard fear
dressed as wisdom.
(Pause.)
Because realism has limits,
and dreams do not.
From the moment I learned to imagine,
the world felt too small.
Not because it lacked beauty—
but because it whispered,
Stay where you are.
I refused.
(He steps forward.)
To dream big is not arrogance.
It is hunger—
a refusal to shrink
to fit the expectations of others.
It is the courage
to picture a future
that does not yet exist
and say, I will build it.
(Pause.)
I dreamed of heights
before I knew how to climb.
I dreamed of oceans
before I learned to swim.
I dreamed of victory
while my hands were still empty.
And they laughed.
They always laugh first.
(His voice hardens.)
They called it impossible.
Impractical.
Childish.
But every great achievement
was once accused
of being unrealistic.
(Pause.)
Dreaming big is dangerous.
It invites disappointment.
It risks failure on a grand scale.
Small dreams break quietly.
Big dreams shatter loudly.
But even shattered,
they leave behind
pieces sharp enough
to shape a life.
(He breathes in.)
I have failed—
spectacularly.
I have stood in the ruins
of what I hoped to become
and wondered
if aiming lower
would have hurt less.
But regret does not ask
How big was your dream?
It asks,
Why did you stop believing?
(Pause.)
To dream big is to live exposed.
To declare your longing
before the world
and risk its indifference.
It means waking each day
aware that effort may not guarantee arrival.
And still choosing to try.
(He looks outward.)
Great ambition is not about success.
It is about refusal—
refusal to live
without reaching.
It is the belief
that potential is a responsibility.
(Pause.)
Every step forward
felt like defiance.
Every failure felt like proof
that the dream was alive.
Because dreams that never fail
were never ambitious.
(His voice softens.)
There were nights
when doubt sat beside me,
asking if the cost was worth it.
When exhaustion whispered,
Settle.
But something louder answered—
Not yet.
(Pause.)
Dreaming big does not promise triumph.
It promises meaning.
It teaches resilience,
humility,
and the strength
to rise after falling.
(He steps into the light.)
I would rather fall
chasing something vast
than stand still
guarding something small.
Because ambition enlarges the soul
even when the world resists.
(Pause.)
So yes—
I dream big.
Not because I am certain of victory,
but because I am certain
that living small
would be the greater failure.
(Long pause.)
Let them warn you.
Let them doubt you.
Let them call your vision unreasonable.
History is written
by those who ignored
reasonable advice.
(He lifts his head.)
Dream big—
not for applause,
not for validation,
but because your spirit
demands expansion.
And if the dream breaks you—
let it break you forward.
(Lights slowly fade.)