Saturday, October 31, 2009

It's just a dream!


When dreams and reality collide head on...

I was dreaming when the phone rang. What was I actually dreaming? Now see, that’s the problem with dreams. You forget it soon enough unless it’s a nightmare that jolts you out of your sleep. And you feel glad, ‘it’s just a dream!’ Laying rest to the few disturbing thoughts, you go back to sleep!

Sometimes, you are falling from a height into a depth that has no end. Your whole body is constricting with electric sensation; the adrenaline is rushing. You know you need to do something but you are helpless. Your body is immobile, powerless against the force of gravity. You close your eyes knowing that the landing could shatter you completely. That would be the end of you.

Just that time, miracle intervenes. You open your eyes. For a numb while, you remain in suspended realism. Gradually, in that fleeting moment between the state of sleep and wakefulness, you collect yourself together. You are not falling anymore. You are rooted to the bed as best as you could.

‘It’s just a dream,’ you heave a sigh of relief.

Other times, you are running. A wild dog is after your life. You are scared like never before. Your heartbeat is a formula one race. And then your leg fails to reach the ground. You are running on a treadmill, exhausting but taking you no where. You look back and see that ferocious, snarling beast. This could be the end of you now. You say your prayers. The divine intervenes.

You turn back to gauge the distance in between you and the animal, measuring how much the beast needs to do the catching up. And then you realize you are cut-paste to a different world. The beast has metamorphosed into a cute, little puppy.

You stop running, and try to figure out what just transpired. Your heart is still beating against your chest. I must be dreaming, you think.

You compose yourself and walk toward the little dog. You cuddle it with your fingers. You pick it up in your hands, up till your face, and look into the dog’s eyes. The dog licks your face.

Transformation. The dog growls. You see those fatal fangs and red burning eyes up close. You are holding that beast. Where’s the little cute dog? The beast pounces on you. Caught by the frenzy of fear, you wake up. Nothing has happened to you! Your heart is still racing.

‘It’s just a dream,’ you heave a sigh of relief.

And then there are those adolescent dreams. You are about to make out with the prettiest girl in school. She is mesmerizing. She has swept you off your feet. And she is giving in now. She is all nude and ready. You are nervous and excited. Sexually.

I must be dreaming, you say! But you don’t care. You take out your clothes, hustle into the bed next to her and grab her tight. She is warm. You climb over her. Just that time, the devil intervenes.

You climax before you have the fun. No, stop, it’s not even started, you say. It’s too late by then. Night fall. That greasy stuff in your underwear wakes you up. You walk out of the bed, grumbling, to the bathroom. Need to wash up!

‘It’s just a dream, how bad?’ you curse, frustrated.

I cannot quite remember the head or tail of the dream that was cut short by the phone call. The last fuzzy thing that I can recollect is of the long, empty street. I am walking alone against the cold wind. It must be early in the morning. The street lights are still on. Somebody should switch it off. Save energy!

I am wrapped in a windproof jacket, thick waterproof trekking trousers and sporting a heavy footwear. An old rifle is slung down my shoulder. A light snow fall. A few dogs lie by the roadside, cuddled to themselves to ward off the cold. There’s not a single soul around. Horror strikes my mind. I am looking for Frankenstein. I am his creator.

The phone rings. I pick it up. I say I am on a mission impossible. Do not disturb me. Frankenstein will hear me. The phone rings. I have not picked it up at all.

I get up and answer the phone. What follows through the next moment completely knocks me out of my dream. It’s an unstoppable barrage of rapid fire reprimands.

“When did you come back? Why did you not call home? You are still sleeping? What is happening to you?”

“Hello!”

“This way you will never change? Father and mother are really angry with you. It’s time you become responsible. You have been drinking the whole night. Are you smoking?”

“Cut that crap short,” I murmur.

“What?”

“Nothing!”

“You better send some money to your younger brother, maybe around 10,000. He called me last evening and he was really upset. I have sent him my share already.”

“10,000. Where will I get the money?” I think.

“Are you listening to me? Do I always have to call you? When was the last time you called me? And dad heard that you are splurging all your money drinking and partying! He is really disappointed with you!”

“From whom? What money? I don't have even money to...”

“I don’t know. It’s time you save. Look at your friends-they all have cars now. They are settled….”

“Don’t compare me with….”

“But you should realize you will need money. What if you are sick or someone in the family is sick. What if you need to go abroad? Won’t you need money?”

“I know but…”

“See, I am telling this for your own good. Get up now and call home!”

“I am this way and I am happy!”

“For how long? You need to think about your life? What, when you have a family and kids?”

“What what?”

“So did you bring those stuffs I asked you?” she softens up.

“Yes, I did.”

“How many?”

“Five pieces.”

“Just five?”

“I ran short of money.”

“What about the color box for the kids?”

“Hmmm….” Fast, I need to answer. “Yes I got them,” I lie. Now I need to buy it from here.

“Okay, brother-in-law will pick it up when he comes to Thimphu. And you better send the money. Today, if possible.”

“Alright! Stop now. I will call you later. Bye. Give my love to the kids. Bye, bye and bye!”

I cut the line, throw the mobile on the floor and try to get back to the dream.

Where was I? Yes, that long, empty street with lights on. The early morning wind. The light snow fall. The dogs. My jacket, trousers and the boot. The gun.Come Frankenstein!

I sleep off for another hour and half. The alarm wakes me up. I get up and look at the phone. Three missed calls from my sister. Did we not just talk?

I call her. And then, bet, what follows is a barrage of rapid fire reprimands…


(P.S: this is for my sweet, caring, loving sister who keeps reminding me where and when i am going haywire!)


2 comments:

Sangay Dema said...

Nice one.
I prefer yummy dreams, and gets better when it's not my imagination. For a constant drifter like me, it's tough to figure out if it was just another dream or one of my creative imagination....

Just cheers and more post plez.
with best Regards.
s.

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