An affair with Dreams...

Why do we dream? I searched the web one day unable to deal with the night telecast anymore. It only read that studies were on. And that they were inevitable for emotional health. I scanned the dream dictionary for common dreams and their interpretations. In the thirty or so dreams listed I had already finished seeing more than half. But some of the oft-repeated images I saw were not even listed. That was a decade back. I dont care anymore.

I remember almost all my horrifying dreams which comes early in the mornings, sharp 3.30 am or soon after. Do they fall in the category of nightmares then? But if there is a dream journal that I will ever write about, its cover page will carry the picture of a little girl outside a window on a misty night, dressed in angelic white, with curly hair, sad silver eyes and her hands ice cold.

I see this image knocking at the window sill. I start, sit up, stare and get confused. Without opening the window I keep my hands on the glass panes. From outside the window, she keeps her hands on mine. It was so cold, almost corpse like, that I pulled back my hand immediately. Cut. I was awake. The dream ended. But my hands were ice cold! And I have never forgotten the little girls face.

The calm mind I pursue during daytime completely leaves my side at night. I am often a bloody serial killer poisoning my grandmother, pushing my friend into a temple pond, plotting the assassination of a political leader... with no logic or theory attached. Once I saw a minister getting infected with cancer and in two months the news was out that his wife was cancer-stricken. She, also a political figure, died soon after. I got afraid of my dreams then.

The dreams got released into my system during my graduation days when I fell in love. Later, when my family got to know about it and kept me on house-arrest for two months at my native place, the demons were unleashed. Thence, it has become a pattern, almost a part of my being. Those days, I used to sleep with the bedsheet rolled into my mouth, in case I cried my heart out in sleep. Depression had got onto me and sleep was what I wished for the first thing I woke in the morning. Yester night dreams would be so fresh and mostly cruel- like getting married off to another guy, missing my own wedding date, wedding saree stolen or my mother’s death on the D- day.

There would be so much of running, hiding and escaping act some nights that by the time I am awake I am tired and would want to sleep again. And ofcourse, snakes! Now, I disagree to the interpretation if it means only sex or lust. It also means utmost terror. Most of the time, the clock would display 3.30 am when I wake up from a nightmare. The reason has evaded me.

I have listened to my friends speaking about their dreams. And dreams they are! Funny, romantic, lustful and even tours to their holiday destinations. But I wonder why my dreams are never fun to be with. If not terrifying, they will be like a trailer to my upcoming days. Many times, they have given me answers to my problems too. Some pieces  fall right into the places then. They point out very clearly what I think about a person, event or choice before me.

Like the one where I saw myself being buried by some of my family members. The next day I return to check who were crying for me. Know who I found? My grandpa.

The one recurring dream is the noise of a war field just outside my window. I look out to see a grand army marching in. Awake, my mind goes out to the people in Palestine or Gaza or Iraq or Pakistan where its a truth which they watch with their eyes open.

Lately, I saw an airplane crashing in the pond behind our house. In the aftermath of the explosion, I saw my body charred into pieces. Before my head bursts, I am sad of dying so soon before seeing my daughter married off.

It is easy to speak or joke about them in the mornings but so hard to sleep with them at nights. It seems they will never leave my bedside or let me sleep in calm. But over the years, I have begun to know them, sometimes understand the secret messages and even manipulate them. I am still waiting for the day when my father will come in my dreams-something that has never happened. Again, the reason evades me!