I can feel the light on my skin as I see myself draw away from the people I was surrounded by. I can also feel the wind on my feet, as if I’m not wearing any shoes. It feels strange, but comforting at the same time. And I am moving away, quick and evanescent, like the sand through the fingers. I roll on my back and look towards the source of light. It seems close to noon. And then I look towards the ceiling-fan, billowing air at my feet. These dreams always leave you with an aftertaste of a different world, with all the images very clearly projected in your mind even after you wake up. But then what’s funnier is that the images are fleeting – the more you try to grasp them, the more they slip away from your consciousness. And in a matter of minutes, all you are left with are vestiges of something that at one time seemed so real to you, notwithstanding the zany grounds of logic that underpinned the dream. The bucket of memories empties into the ocean of subconscious, thick and fast.
It’s a different life for me these days. Reading is what I am immersed in most of the day. But for the past couple of days, a certain illness has also diffused into my air of consciousness. An inexplicable stomach ailment, which does not seem serious enough, has enervated my energy fluids with bouts of high temperature. But I have taken a liking to this periodic illness, as it makes me appreciate good health. And with a couple of interviews lined up, it gives me the requisite peace of mind. Also, the increase in the incidence of dreams (especially ones which you can remember after you wake up) is also something I look forward to as it gives me a peek into my subconscious.
Life is good!