Dream: broken glass

And my saga of weird dreams continue...

I was standing underneath the underpass of the railway junction close to my house. It was night time, which was evident not because of the lack of sunlight but because of the yellowed streetlights that are a trademark of the city at night. I love the hue that it gives in outdoor photographs taken at night. It has rained. The road was glossy and there were few people out. Suddenly someone with diabetes was looking for a medicine shop dedicated to selling drugs for that ailment. For some reason, I seem to know the exact one, and even an alternative one around that area. Of course, I am not surprised over my familiarity with that area, given that I commute using that junction fairly often. 

I think I was waiting for someone, or as I later would realize, from something.

Suddenly it is daytime. Not bright and sunny but cloudy, as it has been for the last few days. I am inside a flat, very close to the railway station. At the back of my mind it is a restaurant, but what I see is an empty flat. It looks like I have taken shelter there. Shelter from what? Then I see myself in one room in that flat and that room closely resembles my old room in our previous apartment. I recognize it especially because of the window, which have those big hazed glass panes. Then suddenly there is a storm outside. All I can see of the storm are flashes of light passing by. Very surreal I must say. It's as if you are put inside a washing machine, only that you are not been thrown around in circles but you can everything around you flashing by so fast that all you can see are flashes. 

I see a boy standing in front of me. The storm passes and there is calm and the boy spits out glass pieces on me. I cry out in protest and realize that my mouth too is full of glass pieces and as I spit out I see blood. But I feel no pain. And then I hear M's worried voice trailing in from the other room, blasting me for standing next to the open window during the storm. I now notice that the glass has broken. 

Dream: Stranded

I have been having these weird dreams these days. Now you may wonder what's in a dream. Well, I m someone who has always claimed that I never dream - which my mother always calmly explained as being unable to remember. But at the end of the day, even if I go with my mother's logic, I did not even have that feeling that I had a dream but which even for the life of me I cannot remember it. But lately, I can remember. And more annoyingly, they seem to add meaning, or reflect on life in general; and the close connection that it has with what happens in my life and how I feel about them, is what provoked this post. 

Yesterday I dreamed that I was traveling on a train. D is there. I just remember this one image of him looking out of the window. The train stops at one place. I get up and go up to the door. The station is fairly empty with a few mobile stalls on wheels. I step out of the train and walk towards a shop or a water cooler. I can't remember which. And suddenly I see that the train is moving. That is when I notice that it was not a long distance express train, but a local train. It does make a huge difference, because local trains pick up speed much faster than an express train, which slowly chugs out of the station, giving one ample time to run and catch up with them. However, in this case, before I could even move a muscle, or rather have an inclination to given how fast the train moved out of the platform, I could see only the tail lights of the lantern. 

All I had with me was my cell phone. I was not carrying any money to catch the next train to wherever I was traveling. I had the sinking feeling that D would not do anything to help me out. He would say he has other more important things to deal with on his platter. This was not a big thing and that I was a big girl and can make my way back home on my own. He can't take responsibility for a grown up like me. I was wondering what to do. The last few passengers who had gotten off at that station were now gone, all headed towards their respective destinations. Just when I was beginning to wonder what to do next, in order to make my way back home all alone, I see a familiar face. No it was not D. In the dim light of the platform I see it was my old friend from school, A. She smiled and said I saw you get off the train and not making it back. So I got off the train. Now I can't remember whether she said she got off thee train while it was moving out of the station I was stranded in, or did she get off the train at the next stop and took a train back - something which was more expected of D rather than an old friend from school whom I haven't even seen since high school. 

We were planning to take the next train. We were standing on the edge of the platform, waiting for the train to come. And that's when I woke up with a thudding headache and feeling utterly depressed.