If Park Street is a museum of possibilities

 If Park Street is a museum of possibilities, a dream and a sad lyre of gradual decadence of a class that once aspired to think beyond its boundaries, its advocate and torchbearers are growing extinct. Free accessibility, an open-source medium, freedom to touch anyone or relish anything is often celebrated.

For me, it is a curse. It goes contrary to the core of human aspiration and sense of achievement.

Imagine a business without a barrier to entry, think of your idol being your roommate who cooks for you every day or a utopian boon to win a lottery whenever you want - do you get it?

No chance (in French, this word also means ‘luck’) is unique unless there is a gatekeeper, an unavoidable obstacle, or an undesirable roadblock. It doesn't matter if you accept its presence. It is just there. It tells you - ‘Hold on mate, it’s not the time.’ Kick your ass off because to be worthy of someone’s object of attention, you got to be an eligible candidate. And there is a ruthless competition, even in the domain of your niche skills. There are people who are just better off.

Once you try to recreate Park Street at 80s now, you know that there is something seriously wrong with you and the people who grew up with you. You are either braving too much against your capacity, trapped in a nostalgia which deludes the unaccomplished over-reachers or adapted a wrong way of living which is not meant for you.