Remembrance of a dream

While I lay wide awake, trying to remember my dream,
the sun came up from the horizon, overwhelming the comfortable darkness of my room
The warm rays of sunshine stroked against the coldness in my feet
and her arms stretched around my bosom;

When did I fall asleep? When did I detach?
When did I move in? When did I enter?
What was the journey? Where did I end up?
All I remember is a sinking feeling of having lost that dream

While there, I had promised myself to never come back
To live on, in the world beneath my eyelids
To sing, to dance, to love, and to be loved
Never once to return, Never once to forget

He was a tall man, and I was riding a horse
I remember her smell, of rose and many others
Alas, I cannot remember her face, but the touch is so new
The dance so mesmerizing, and her smile so enchanting

Bits and pieces of my dream lay up on the ceiling like a jigsaw puzzle
Each one of them disappearing by the second
The feeling of loss sinking me further, I try to hold on to the last one
But in vain!

As the hands on the clock get closer to drawing a straight vertical
I close my eyes once again, trying to rush into the tunnel
The door closing far ahead, encircling itself into smaller loops
Stretching my hands and my failing legs, I try to pull myself back to the world again

But someone has let off a siren, one that of alarm, the ringing growing louder
May be I should not have come out, may be they found out
The warm rays of sunshine stroked against the coldness in my feet
and her arms stretched around my bosom;

A slow movement in the bed, and the siren went out
Awake I lay, thrown out of the palace of my own creation
My foolishness to step out, in to the world to take a break
All I remember is a sinking feeling of having lost that dream

Each day I wake up, though I like it not
Each day I step out, to step into this world of rot
Waiting to pass through the seconds of pain, to go back in night to my world of joy
Hoping someday I will never wake, and live on in the world beneath my eyelids



Dannie John
19-Dec-09

Beginning

As he stood there and watched, there was a miracle taking place. He saw red, blood red really, as if he were looking at the horizon. I would more call it the rising sun. Or is it not? A new day was being born, for someone at least.

White coats rushed all around him, smell of spirit filled his nostrils. There was blood dripping into a bowl. He probably had never seen so much human blood at once. And at once, he felt nausea. But the hope of what lay ahead, kept him there. Or may be it was her grip.

She held on to him tightly, as if there was no tomorrow. She lay there, with eyes wide open, with her grip strongly around his wrists, with inexplicable pain seizing every single muscle in her body, waiting for the moment. The moment of truth. And then she thought for a second, just a flash of a thought passed her mind before pain again defeated her. Sometimes we endure pain no one can ever measure, with just the reassurance of a better tomorrow looking over us with soothing kindness. Why am I going through this?

And then he saw a strand of hair. Anxiety was slowly seeping in. With every passing second, there was a fulcrum of emotions playing around in his mind. The sight of every additional inch brought in excitement. As the grip tightened, that changed to nervousness, anxiety and sometimes sheer pain where her nails dipped.

He thought to himself, is it all? Have I achieved all? Manhood is complete.

When the head was out, his first instinct was to look for resemblance. But then she was crying aloud. Did he hear some expletives? Oh, that was a response, he realized. He had accidentally said "Push baby".

It was nine months since I slept properly, like always I loved, curled up within my blanket, knees touching my breasts. It been a long time, I ran up the stairs, got drenched in rain, danced in the shower. It has been a long time I breathed easily. It has been a long time. And then she cried out loud, a cry of pain and of giving in. A cry of victory, of having done with. A cry of happiness. A cry of emptiness, of the weight draining out. She thought, all certain done, it was nice carrying you my child.

And through the gap between her legs, she saw the first glimpses of her new born.

For them it was a new dawn. For a second the two parallel lines of thought met, they thought to themselves, my child is beautiful. It was not over, they thought, it is just beginning.

DJ
7th Aug 09

Note: I have never witnessed a birth. I have just tried to think like the protagonists.

its been a while. And I am damn pissed. Wasted 700 days of my life. Sorry.

Need to thank Jeff. Never met him, but accidentally pushed me to read my blogposts again after so long. And I need to confess, I am ashamed, sad and angry at myself for not being able to commit time to write.

So it seems I am getting back to being me. The first step is here, over the past week - dusted out myself from excuses and reasons for not thinking / creating. Today pushed myself to sign-in (after 2 years). And suddenly I realise, I have so much to say and I am wasting my life by not doing it. My mind has been swollen with ideas, nights have been again about dreaming movies, and every now and then there are two lines of unadulterated poetry spilling out. And I am enjoying it.

Thanks Jeff.
DJ