Sometimes, my dreams are so incoherent.. not that I would like them to be rational always, but when they make sense, it feels great! Last night, I had a long conversation with one of my best friends, and such good talk always leaves me in a very happy spirit. Because I was happy when I went to sleep, I had a really happy yet weird dream today morning. It has been raining continuously throughout the night and the sound of rain partially awoke me, so that I was still half- asleep yet could sense the movements and chaos in the house.
Here's what I dreamt of!
I am walking on the road with my younger sister, and we stop by a stationery shop when I see some Inland letters and Envelopes on display. I ask the shopkeeper for them, and he promptly hands them over to me, when to my surprise I see my name on the envelop. Its addressed to me, complete with my name and an affixed stamp. I read it and its from one of my lost mails. (Since a few months now, my mail is not reaching my address- I know this because I have some friends who regularly send me postcards, and I haven't received any lately, ditto with my magazine subscriptions.) I am so surprised to see this letter in my hand, that I tell them I have been waiting for this letter eagerly. He hands me a small parcel now, which has something wrapped in a cloth. I open it to see two vials of perfume(attar). I ask him if there is a letter with this, and the shopkeeper goes inside and brings a small notepaper, with a handwritten note by my friend from Calcutta. It reads as follows-
Dear Sharayu,
This is from me and Purba.
Hope you are fine.
Love,
Partha.
Its so strange, and I thank the shopkeeper and ask him to deliver more letters if they arrive at his shop. And, just before I could say something else or do anything, I awoke with a jolt. Just like that.
I have been thinking over this dream and the events and can't make sense of it. But its true that I haven't spoken to or heard from Partha and Purba (my childhood friends) in a long time. Perhaps, I am longing for their voices and the Calcutta memories...
Oh, How I miss the Calcutta baadis, and the dusty roads, the sight of kids playing football and those huge muddy grounds, the crumbling facades and the pastel hues of houses, and the urge to drink water from a roadside handpump... the visuals are so alive in my eyes that sometimes I feel, if I just close my eyes for a moment and open them a second later, I will be standing there caressing the warm air, and answering to my maashi's (aunt) call for lunch- luchis, fish, rice and roshogullas... Aah! The dream..
Here's what I dreamt of!
I am walking on the road with my younger sister, and we stop by a stationery shop when I see some Inland letters and Envelopes on display. I ask the shopkeeper for them, and he promptly hands them over to me, when to my surprise I see my name on the envelop. Its addressed to me, complete with my name and an affixed stamp. I read it and its from one of my lost mails. (Since a few months now, my mail is not reaching my address- I know this because I have some friends who regularly send me postcards, and I haven't received any lately, ditto with my magazine subscriptions.) I am so surprised to see this letter in my hand, that I tell them I have been waiting for this letter eagerly. He hands me a small parcel now, which has something wrapped in a cloth. I open it to see two vials of perfume(attar). I ask him if there is a letter with this, and the shopkeeper goes inside and brings a small notepaper, with a handwritten note by my friend from Calcutta. It reads as follows-
Dear Sharayu,
This is from me and Purba.
Hope you are fine.
Love,
Partha.
Its so strange, and I thank the shopkeeper and ask him to deliver more letters if they arrive at his shop. And, just before I could say something else or do anything, I awoke with a jolt. Just like that.
I have been thinking over this dream and the events and can't make sense of it. But its true that I haven't spoken to or heard from Partha and Purba (my childhood friends) in a long time. Perhaps, I am longing for their voices and the Calcutta memories...
Oh, How I miss the Calcutta baadis, and the dusty roads, the sight of kids playing football and those huge muddy grounds, the crumbling facades and the pastel hues of houses, and the urge to drink water from a roadside handpump... the visuals are so alive in my eyes that sometimes I feel, if I just close my eyes for a moment and open them a second later, I will be standing there caressing the warm air, and answering to my maashi's (aunt) call for lunch- luchis, fish, rice and roshogullas... Aah! The dream..
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