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. 

So damnedly scary

It is the second time that I am walking out of his house by "shouting" at him. The last time (though I came to know about it much later) his mum had come running after me asking me to wait because he was coming to see me off. And today, his sister came to help us make truce. But I nodded my head and walked away. May be it IS true - that I am impatient, unkind, insensitive, rude and everything else that comes in that same list. I don't have the strength to fight the truth any more. The reality which he has been asking me to come to terms with... I think it is time to accept it. But with acceptance comes a moving on. Where will I find my thrust of the 'onward' movement? I feel scared when it hits me... And to be honest, it has been hitting me for quite sometime, may be from the very beginning. Which is scary. But what is more scary is the fact that each time it seems to be hitting me harder and closer home. 

It scares me when I realise that with each passing day I am coming a little closer to losing that belief that I have a place to go to if I walk away from all this now. After marriage that is an option that will be closed to me forever. It's just how I am. It scares me when I see how close I am to getting everything I might have wanted in the last one year and losing everything that I have always feared losing. I am scared of the uncertainty. But what I am most scared is to admit it to someone that I am scared. I have never done that. I have always braced myself against that one thing in the face of all odds. Most importantly, I have been scared worrying what might befall someone else, but never my own. Does it mean I run away from my fears? A lot of people would say something like that, but honestly, or at least consciously (for one does not know the matter of the unconscious), it is not so. Is that why I spend so much time just staring at me... into my own eyes for a long time? Is that my way of silently confronting the truth?

I have a ruinous tendency which I had noticed before but is becoming obvious only now -- that when something beautiful is happening, there is this strong (sometimes overpowering) urge to destroy it all. A perfectly made sand tower being suddenly kicked out of its beauty by its very maker. May be it had something to do with the sand itself. They say sand castles are for the momentary. As soon as the moment passes, as it is the nature of all moments, the voice inside convinces the head to listen to the heart, which is craving to destroy it all. I get the best of opportunities and yet I let it lie waste. Or as I just said, I ruin it with my own hands. 

Everything around me is just so damn scary.

Entry for 25.10.2011 ---- 05:44 am

Things are strained. There is  a lot of pressure for reasons not of or own, but rather because we are trying to oblige too much and too many. It is probably more due to me because I never spoke out and stood for myself. I feel I am such a loser and spineless at times. Is it because things have come easy to me in life? Or is it that I made them come easily by complying, obliging and giving in to everything that they said - what I must do and how must I be like.


Long time ago, Ma had said that I try to make everyone happy. It will only make me unhappy because it is impossible to make everyone around you happy. But even if I pick and choose my way, I am right now standing at one of the toughest crossroads life can throw at you.
I am to make a choice between them who have been everything to me my whole life and the person with whom I am ready to vow to spend the rest of my life. One defines my past, while the other promises of a future and I am stuck in the present.
But the present hurts so much! It tears me into innumerable pieces. I am being pulled on all sides by different forces, none of whom are trying to understand the predicament I am in. 


As I lie in bed - on my stomach - it is early morning. My eyes burn due to lack of sleep. My head keeps saying that it is not happy with me. That is the irony of my life right now - no one is happy with me - at least not the ones I care so much about.


I rest my head on the crook of my arm - the cold air from the fan playing havoc with my recently washed hair. I am taken back to another day - when I am sitting with him in a tram through one of the busiest routes of the city. A similar gust of wind come and paste the loose strands of hair across my face - and he tells me how he imagined this very scene and described it in his class while teaching Bazin.
One is immediately made to realise how little of that affection remains. The strain is killing off all that (magic?). One craves for that call of endearment - haven't heard it for quite some while. And then he says it as I tearfully make my plea for not calling it all off. And then there is this sudden feeling of peace that one is awashed with. 

Entry for 24.09.2011 ---- 20:30

I don't like the way he avoids meeting my parents. They are important (and should be so) as I am what I am because of them - good and bad. I am sad and hurt.

So what you thought to be willingly obliging your parents and maintaining peace and also in a certain way keeping them happy as well, you realise it was nothing of the sort. Rather it was more like becoming a victim of excessive possessiveness felt by a set of parents towards their only child, and worse so, towards their only child who is a girl.
And it all comes to the surface when that only child, whom they thought they would mould and protect from any kind of "external"influences falls in love. They are disturbed by this sudden change in her loyalty - change and loyalty may not be the right words to use but then that is what that's been rocking their lives.

Entry for 18.09.2011 --- 20:39

They don't like his house - the location to be exact, he is not impressive - well, I didn't want somebody so impressive that I can't even have a proper intelligent conversation with him. He is not tall enough -  I wasn't looking for someone who would be impressionable on the day of the marriage, but someone who will be more worthwhile to me for the rest of my life.