Category Archives: dreams

The Ambush

The beginnings of the day were ordinary, forgettable, the median between pleasant and unpleasant that the brain does not register because of its sheer frequency.
The visitors charged their cameras and dressed up in their pseudo ethnic clothes, The kinds that locals have never worn, the kinds that only the easily excitable and impressioned firang would wear. Moleskines were stuffed into hip messenger bags, librarian glasses perched on sculpted noses and much moaning done about the lack of a Starbucks in the city of New Delhi.

Seelampur, one of the vast tracts of land that the city of Delhi swallowed as it grew and then forgot about. Its only seeming purpose was to house the poor working classes of Delhi. The rest of Delhi would rarely, if ever, hear the name leave alone being able to place it on a map.

7 excited New Yorkers, In the city of New Delhi. Barring the New in the name there was little common in the place where they came from and the place where they now stood. No one had ever used the words Williamsburg and seelampur in the same breath, ever before. They were interviewing people, for a state sponsored project. Apparently the easiest way of making the american populace feel better about their own pathetic conditions post the financial apocalypse was to highlight how badly people lived on the other side of the world, in particular. They were the ones who stole all the jobs from america, didn’t they?

The case in point today was a small locality on the outer extremities of Seelampur, a group of people who had never heard of america, or seen a white man, the gaggle of visitors was almost like a traveling circus, with their colorful clothing, far removed from the traditional indian attire.

Little did they know

The poor milkman talked, as they huddled around him. Some taking notes, recording audio, snapping up pieces of his life and trying to reason with fate. They could have been in his place, it was only a matter of some thousand miles, they wondered, sitting in the warm winter sun on his rooftop. Separated from the cows below by 2 stories.

It was an unfamiliar sound, the movies have nothing like it. No amount of Jurassic park will prepare one for the pissing the pants feeling brought upon when one hears it. The fear, some say, is built in. Its logical, it is warranted, it is very, very, real.

their hearts weighed down by this unfamiliar sound they all turned to find its source, they did not know what it was but what it brought out was sheer, primeval fear! The cows bellowed and the birds beat a quick escape.

Those stripes

The tiger lunged at one of the cows, bringing it down with a mixture of strength and fear. It uttered deep,frequent sounds as it held the neck of the cow in its jaws. Almost re-assuring the cow. The everlasting stillness of death was here.

Time stood at a standstill for the feral beast,the locals hid inside their houses and the visitors watched from their perch, in fear, in awe, as the tiger feasted on his prey.

He turned his head around, the last of his kinds, the king of the kings, and made eye contact with the visitors. A deep voiced roar announced that they were in his territory. As the rest of his body followed suit to re-orient itself with the head, he made his presence known. And then he disappeared from the scene, with the grace and urgency of royalty, disappearing like a shadow on a moon less night.

They had just met, the tiger of Seelampur

(To be continued)


The strangers

The strangers

Your eyes meet as you prepare yourself for the trek across the road, there is a sense of surprise in her eyes, and they scream the question who is he? while you are busy sinking into those vivid pools that imagination conjures when face to face with a true beauty.
You hold yourself together and embrace a stance that screams casual nonchalance, you are used to such beauty you indicate as you cross the road, letting the woman know of your pride. It is a lie, you know because your eyes keep flirting back in her direction, begging her for a glimmer, a glance, a smile..

But they only find disdain, reserved for pompous men such as yourself, not even a second glance, so you pick up the pieces of heart,once again, and try to escape the scene of this injustice as soon as you can wishing, that she does think about you…

The Blur

The samurai

He was clad in spotless whites, His actions were graceful but visceral, the entire village swore they barely saw him move, it was over before it began,  in one lightening swift  movement he withdrew his shining double blade katana and swung it with the careless precision and effortless strength that comes naturally to such masters of the art as him. The sword mercifully rid the bounty hunter of his head which bore an expression of disbelief as it looked at the body gush blood and slowly collapse. It felt no pain, just the stillness of death as it arrived in the form of a cold, savage, darkness.

why do we dream?

Why do we dream? What are our dreams? What do the dreams mean? I believe there is so much more to dreams than we make of them, they are not t.v shows for our sleep time but lie beyond the realm of entertainment, and they are not distractions from our daily lives. To understand what dreams signify, we must look to the other end of the spectrum…lets try to understand what nightmares are.
In my opinion what we see in our nightmares are our worst fears, what scares us most, that’s why the thought of those unfavourable incidents is scary enough to warrant being called a nightmare! If nightmares are our worst fears what do our other, sweet, pleasant dreams mean?
They must be the things that we want to achieve the most, the utopia or the perfection that we wish to attain, the things that we yearn for, our inner most wishes our desires our wants, and dreams are the voice of the heart, reaching out when it cannot be drowned out by the cacophony of rationality created by the mind. We dream when we cannot reason, we cannot argue in our sleep, our day dreams are our sacred haunts.
There is nothing to tell us that our ideas are false, are stupid, and are unachievable.
The beauty of the foolhardy approach to this life is such, we shall always remember the idiot who decided to chase the castles of his dreams, even if he does not make it and falters along the way. When he does get there, the glory is his to covet, little is said about the men of wisdom who lock themselves within the four walls of lucidity claiming to know better, they are the ones who lead unremarkable lives, never attaining what they desire.
To dream is to be normal, I think it’s perfectly normal to dream, to dream big…what is not acceptable is not to chase that dream; the world would have been a different place had fools not decided that they were going to pursue their dreams no matter how absurd. People who turned the world around had the courage to stand up to their own dreams.
If you do not try you will never succeed, if you never chase that cloud it will inevitably disappear, you are bound to miss all the shots that you never take.