Dreams Don't Lie........

Sometimes, I dream. Sometimes, it’s trivia and sometimes..........

The battle was becoming more fierce. I was losing ground against the mighty enemy, my father. Nothing could be done now. I was at the verge of defeat when the history repeated itself and my mother dropped ‘the Fatman’ and ‘the Little Boy’. That was it. I won and as a result became a proud owner  of a brand new mobile phone by that evening. It was awesome, the impeccable black body adorned with the eminent ‘bitten forbidden fruit’. Smooth like butter and lustrous like a star. The hottest gadget in the market was in my hands. It was not a dream.

And then it rang. It was my childhood friend on the other side. He told me about the slambook he had found which we used to fill during school days. He read out from what I had written-

“Name- Rishtey mein to hum tumhare...........”

“Address- ...........,Varanasi, U.P. , India, Asia, World.............”

“Interests- singing and dancing.”

Suddenly, the world around me became a whirlpool and I sank in it.

 I emerge out at a very strange place. It’s very dark here. I can’t see anything. Suddenly, the whole area is engulfed by dim light. It is some narrow alley. There is a large red curtain infont of me and on that curtain, I see some strange silhouettes. I am nervous. I stretch my hand towards the curtain but just before I could touch it, it disappears and a bright beam of light strikes my eyes. I veil my eyes with my hands .Suddenly, I hear some loud noise. It seems as if a crowd is clapping. I lower my hands slowly and find myself standing on a wooden stage with hundreds of eyes staring at me.I see two men on the harmonium and the tabla besides me. There is  a mike infront of me. I step forward, hold the mike and start singing.

Oh! Yes. I remember. I used to sing when I was a kid. But that was years back. Years back, before I joined the rat race. Years back , when whatever I did was not to stay ahead of my peers but to stay ahead of my dreams.

But wait, I can’t hear my own voice, neither can I hear the tabla or the harmonium. The audience can listen to me, they are clapping. I see them appreciating. Then why can’t I hear? I am trying hard but all in vain. I become anxious, restless. I can’t bear this. I wake up.

 

It took me a while to realise that I no longer remember the song which I sang that night at the ‘all India radio’ and that was why I couldn’t hear myself. I kept awake the whole night trying to recall the  long forgotten song. But that was not the only thing I realised that night. The song was merely a tiny part of all that I had forgotten about myself, just a particle in the vast desert, just a moment in eternity. Is this what the rat race has given to me? Wasn’t I suppose to dream about the newly bought mobile phone that night?

Sometimes, I dream. Sometimes it’s trivia but sometimes.......... 

Friendship happens.......

“You are a ‘Bheetarghagh’- a deceiver”. It was almost dusk.The hostel room was overflowing with boys-my batchmates.

“Fourth question was out of course.”

”Nah! it was given in the last chapter.”

“Oh fish! How could i do such a silly mistake?”

“Next time i’ll start studying atleast one week before the examination.”

 The voices were loud. In this stampede of words and expressions, I sent out some of my own.”I did very bad , I think I might fail.” I never expected my words to survive and neither did i want them to. I had no emotional attachment with them. I didn’t care. But someone did , someone did care for them and not because he loved them but because he hated them . Then I heard, “you shut up! You are a bheetarghagh . You always deceive people. You are a liar. I know you have done very well in the examination and so do you but you won’t admit it.” There was silence. What happened to the chaos? Had the security arrived? Oh! Yes. But why were my words caught? They were not the culprit. They didn’t start the stampede. There was something conspicuous in them. The roar continued, ”you better change your attitude or you will suffer”.

“Change? Why should I change? This is what I am. I won’t change for anybody.”

“Try it once buddy, you will feel good.”

Sleep eluded me that night. The very same stampede was now in my mind.”Was he right? Will I suffer? Nah! How can that little fellow who luckily has had a narrow escape from dwarfism, tell me to change? This is what I have always been. I have never suffered. I have always loved my friends during school days and they have loved me back equally. But wait, have they really loved me back? ‘The concepts of Physics’ , ‘Mathematics for IIT-JEE’ , ‘Organic chemistry made easy’ etc. Have they ever loved me back as much as I have loved them? No, they have not. So, what does it take to make friends who can love you back? Why wasn’t I able to make such friends? I think I have the answer. So, should  I change?”

“No, I shouldn’t change.” I concluded this not because I didn’t have such friends but because I felt that I didn’t need them. It didn’t bother me that what others thought about me.

“Don’t you think he is a bheetarghagh?” Days went by and suddenly this question was raised before a person I had become acquainted with. “Yes”, was the reply. Surprisingly, it hurt and I had never anticipated this. But that word had bruised me everywhere with scars. The scars which only I could see. I realised that it was not the “yes” but it was the person who had said it. I realised what others(the person who had said “yes”) think of me had started bothering me. It was the time to change myself. It was my first taste of friendship. It just happened. 

The night before the journey started.....

I woke up early in the morning. Actually, I never woke up because I had never slept the previous night. I wanted to sleep as the permanent  resident of the house for  one last time. But i was not able to. I wasn’t insomniac, it had never happened before but was happening that night. There was something within me that kept me vigil. My mind had become a battle field of a war between my sleep and its formidable adversaries- anxiety, anxiousness, fear, happiness and dismay. I felt like nightwatchman ,who sitting on his wooden stool falls asleep but everytime his eyes close, he startles and wakesup on hearing a sound somewhere . A sound which he later realises  was just hooting of an owl or rustling of wind or just an illusion. It felt like eternity.

It was morning time. Piercing through the translucent window pane,the diffused sunlight was illuminating only some parts of the room. It was telling me implicitly to get out of bed but was not just strong enough to push me out. It was still raining outside,as it had been  since last 3 days. I could hear the sound of rain drops splashing against the window pane and against the tree leaves and against the roof and against everything which came in its way from the heaven to gaea. In the sunlight ,impregnating in the whole room, i could see a photoframe dangling on the wall with a picture of two children smiling. I squinted and recognised one of them to be me and other  one my sibling. I rolled my eyes and i saw a heap of books kept one over the other forming a pyramidal shape. The diffused sunlight could only lit the base of the pyramid. Its apex was not visible .It seemed like the apex was somewhere at Zeus’ feet. I tried to read the title of one of the books diligently,it was “the concepts of physics”. A feeling of disgust arose in me, the air in the room became suddenly became too thick to breathe. I quickly rolled my eyes away. Good riddance,i thought. The sight  of bookpile had created a tumoil in my conscience and i started feeling very exasperated. I wanted to get out of this room. Suddenly my sight fell on the doorway to freedom. The two years of mental trauma had ended. there was  no need to touch those books again. I ran out of the room.