I Dream of Me..

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Previous- I Dream of Oldman..!!

This one actually turns out to be I Dream of Oldman..!! Part- II

Yesterday was Janamashathami. It is celebrated as Lord Krishna’s Birth Anniversary. I was fasting 😀

I had slept at 2.00 in the night (or early morning).. I had pressed this post. While compiling that one, I had also prepared to press this one. I had made this observation some may be 20 years ago.. What I mean is, I was perfectly balanced before dozing off.

Or may be I was not..!!

3rd September, 2010. 8.30am

I dreamt of this in 2 parts.

Part- I

I wandered around some unknown corridors. Class- mates of both the schools were around. I could recognize all faces but not remember them. A teacher had then pointed out on a standard higher than mine, for me to go and sit. I had thought, “wow, so this time, I am being promoted..!!”

Part- II

I was sat with Nitika Sabharwal (my GFPS class- mate, untrace-able), when my Boss- look alike approached us and had wanted both of us to hear what the “Evil Soul” had to say. He had held a steel tiffin out to us. Some jelly like substance was filled in that flat pitcher- shaped lunch- box.

(I do have 2 of those)

He had wanted us to hurry up since he had “called- upon” that soul only for a minute. That man had then rolled his eyes up to “link”. My friend had placed her fingers on the blob and asked “what’s wrong..?” A few reactions had feathered her face. The man asked her to talk in some other language than English. He also nudged me to place my palm on that substance; reminding me that he had only a minute..

I had touched the blob. I had felt tingling sensation in my fingers. It was warm and moving. It had small sparks of electric current as if alive! I asked in Bangla- “since when..?“. I heard a woman sobbing. Crying in a for- lorn manner. I pressed my fingers hard and asked her to bare it all. To speak up whatever she had wanted to.. asking her what her problem was. The sobbing had continued. The voice didn’t speak a word. Only moaned and mourned.

A minute was over, the contact was lost. A song floated on the radio nearby- “tu muskura, jahan bhi hai tu muskura..”

Translation- You smile wherever you maybe; just smile”

My dream ended.

Was this me? Again?

The same jelly like throbbing mass.. inside a flat pitcher like container. I used to dream of an oldman taking “me” out from a scare-crow (small pitcher made of mud) and float “my soul” in the flowing water. This time, the pitcher was shining steel. There was no water. Neither did anyone take that “soul” out. Instead, had only “linked” and communicated. I had still  seen myself wandering in the corridor. I was not made to vacate the building; instead, given a standard raise.

Her “voice” had sobbed no end. I could hear her moan. Some broken sounds she had made that she may have tried to “speak”. I could sense her helplessness. As if she was pressed and caged. She definitely wanted to free herself and had not known of any way to do that.

But why was she EVIL? Why was I addressed as Evil?

The song at the last was just apt- “to smile wherever you may be..”

The message is clear- Speak up, Don’t Cry and Smile.

COPY

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My In- Mind Whirls Writes

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