Here is a dream which was so lucid that it seemed better
than real. Maybe it wasn't a dream, but that this activity was actually happening in
a not so far parallel universe.
It is raining. The sky is shielded with a pitch black blanket of dark clouds, ominous to some the weather may seem. When the lightning strikes then only I am able to see something and after a while, my journey is filled with a voice of thunder. Lightning and thunder, light and sound, visual and auditory, a difference in their speeds forces me to believe that one of them would burn out before the other. Lightning is selfish, it dies before its companion, maybe lightning fears the moments of solitude, but thunder is always left alone at the end to ponder. Looking up at the sky I do this contemplation, but still the occasional lightning doesn't guide my pathway and the thunder is not my only companion in absolute silence.
I see a lighthouse up ahead. Its beam of green light rotating and in its beam one can clearly see the droplets of water pouring down from above. In the lightning, the lighthouse appears brown at bottom and rest is painted white. It kind of looks similar to a vertically held cigarette, with its butt held up by the ground. I need to get to that shelter before rain decimates me too, like this rain is obliterating hit by hit the stones into sand. I start to run, but the path is precarious and the wind is forcing its power to resist my speed. Time and distance in a dream are at your disposal and the moment you realize that you are in a dream, you can control the these inherent forms of nature. But even after this realization I was not able to do so. Maybe this wasn't a dream after all, maybe it’s the reality. While this thinking process was going on, I was keeping my pace and finally I reached the lighthouse entrance door.
The door made up of wood, was old. Although the moisture and salt from the sea had caused some toll on this door, its duty it still fulfilled- to keep out the unwanted. Was I an unwanted? I was to find out. I pushed the door gently and it opened, as if the wind had thrown its force upon it. I got in. I shut the door. I got some relief for there was no wind and no rain that i could feel now. There was a staircase and I decided to go up some levels. Closer to the clouds, nearer to the green light. On reaching the topmost floor with only the roof over my head I decided to lie down and close my eyes. Even with the eyes closed I could see the green tint of the beam, providing guidance to the boats and ships. I could hear the wind blow from the crevices of the long standing stone tower and occasionally the sound of a droplet or two of water dripping down from the roof.
I felt that I was not alone in that place, that someone was there continuously taking care of me, giving me company. Then as the lightning struck, I opened my eyes. I could see a bat hanging upside down, probably resting. Why wasn't he hunting? Maybe his ultrasonic frequencies are no match for this weather? Maybe he found no prey today? I named him Salao-worst form of unlucky. The bat was unperturbed by the noises outside, he was accustomed to this weather. He resembles me in some way, doing nothing just sleeping. Thinking of changing the society but again doing nothing. With that thought, I stood up and went to the big window from which the green beam flowed out. I could see the roaring sea and I could again feel the soaring wind on my face. I saw a boat struggling in the turbulent water, as the green light fell on the mast. The boat seemed empty. An empty boat without a sailor, yet drifting away with every moment. I wave a hand to that boat; my hand obstructed the beam of light coming from the lighthouse. And then I see my hand's shadow falling on the boat. Can I rescue that non-breathing thing? Will my shadow have the requisite strength to lift the boat and make it reach the shore? No. A wave came, a big wave and the boat was destroyed. It’s wood floating in the water. I feel bad for the boat. Feelings for a man-made thing, weird thought.
My one hand is resting on the edge of the window, made out of stone. I feel the texture of the stone, wet from the rain seeping through gaps in the roof. Then I see my hand in the light, it kind of resembles the stony texture of the wall. With that thought in my mind I decide to sleep until the storm passes. I lie down and shut my eyes, but I could feel someone looking at me. It brings smile to my face. Then I finally sleep.When I woke up, I was at my home, in my comfortable bed. Away from the thunder, lightning, rain, wind, Salao, green light, boat, that caring spirit and the lighthouse. Was it a dream? No, it was real. Or was it? This time my mind was really full of some thoughts.
It is raining. The sky is shielded with a pitch black blanket of dark clouds, ominous to some the weather may seem. When the lightning strikes then only I am able to see something and after a while, my journey is filled with a voice of thunder. Lightning and thunder, light and sound, visual and auditory, a difference in their speeds forces me to believe that one of them would burn out before the other. Lightning is selfish, it dies before its companion, maybe lightning fears the moments of solitude, but thunder is always left alone at the end to ponder. Looking up at the sky I do this contemplation, but still the occasional lightning doesn't guide my pathway and the thunder is not my only companion in absolute silence.
I see a lighthouse up ahead. Its beam of green light rotating and in its beam one can clearly see the droplets of water pouring down from above. In the lightning, the lighthouse appears brown at bottom and rest is painted white. It kind of looks similar to a vertically held cigarette, with its butt held up by the ground. I need to get to that shelter before rain decimates me too, like this rain is obliterating hit by hit the stones into sand. I start to run, but the path is precarious and the wind is forcing its power to resist my speed. Time and distance in a dream are at your disposal and the moment you realize that you are in a dream, you can control the these inherent forms of nature. But even after this realization I was not able to do so. Maybe this wasn't a dream after all, maybe it’s the reality. While this thinking process was going on, I was keeping my pace and finally I reached the lighthouse entrance door.
The door made up of wood, was old. Although the moisture and salt from the sea had caused some toll on this door, its duty it still fulfilled- to keep out the unwanted. Was I an unwanted? I was to find out. I pushed the door gently and it opened, as if the wind had thrown its force upon it. I got in. I shut the door. I got some relief for there was no wind and no rain that i could feel now. There was a staircase and I decided to go up some levels. Closer to the clouds, nearer to the green light. On reaching the topmost floor with only the roof over my head I decided to lie down and close my eyes. Even with the eyes closed I could see the green tint of the beam, providing guidance to the boats and ships. I could hear the wind blow from the crevices of the long standing stone tower and occasionally the sound of a droplet or two of water dripping down from the roof.
I felt that I was not alone in that place, that someone was there continuously taking care of me, giving me company. Then as the lightning struck, I opened my eyes. I could see a bat hanging upside down, probably resting. Why wasn't he hunting? Maybe his ultrasonic frequencies are no match for this weather? Maybe he found no prey today? I named him Salao-worst form of unlucky. The bat was unperturbed by the noises outside, he was accustomed to this weather. He resembles me in some way, doing nothing just sleeping. Thinking of changing the society but again doing nothing. With that thought, I stood up and went to the big window from which the green beam flowed out. I could see the roaring sea and I could again feel the soaring wind on my face. I saw a boat struggling in the turbulent water, as the green light fell on the mast. The boat seemed empty. An empty boat without a sailor, yet drifting away with every moment. I wave a hand to that boat; my hand obstructed the beam of light coming from the lighthouse. And then I see my hand's shadow falling on the boat. Can I rescue that non-breathing thing? Will my shadow have the requisite strength to lift the boat and make it reach the shore? No. A wave came, a big wave and the boat was destroyed. It’s wood floating in the water. I feel bad for the boat. Feelings for a man-made thing, weird thought.
My one hand is resting on the edge of the window, made out of stone. I feel the texture of the stone, wet from the rain seeping through gaps in the roof. Then I see my hand in the light, it kind of resembles the stony texture of the wall. With that thought in my mind I decide to sleep until the storm passes. I lie down and shut my eyes, but I could feel someone looking at me. It brings smile to my face. Then I finally sleep.When I woke up, I was at my home, in my comfortable bed. Away from the thunder, lightning, rain, wind, Salao, green light, boat, that caring spirit and the lighthouse. Was it a dream? No, it was real. Or was it? This time my mind was really full of some thoughts.
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