The Dream That I Must Interpret.........

A few days ago I had dozed off on the sofa in the living room, at about 5 in the morning.

I have a habit of sleeping at that hour so there was nothing uncommon about this.

Anyway, no one woke me up in the early morning, and everyone left for work or college, so I was all alone (except my grandfather, and he hardly communicates, so I'm not counting him here).

I woke up at 10:30 am, still on the sofa, with my sleep incomplete.

The sun shone brightly and it was getting hotter.

And yet there was something different.

As I twisted my body to jerk off the inertia and lethargy, I felt HAPPY.

Yes, I felt happy.

I felt as if a great weight had come off my shoulders during my sleep.

Wait, that is not the right way to describe it. 

I felt like I was young again.

Hey, I know I am only 24. Young again? I am supposed to be at the peak of youth!

But mentally at least, I am not. Physically, one could argue that I could be fit as I was about 4 years ago if I try, but mentally, no.

So, I felt happy. Looking at the blazing sunshine outside, looking around the room, I felt young again.

I suddenly realized how "old" I had grown in the last few years. Mentally. Physically. But mentally most crucially. Because mental aging is so much worse than losing control of your tummy size. 

When I say "few years", I mean about three years, may be lesser. Two and a bit.

But that morning I was feeling incredibly happy, and young. I was feeling 17 again. 17.

When I was 16, 17, I used to go on long walks in the late mornings. I used to love it. More like a stroll. More like enjoying the serenity of the morning at its peak. Serenity? Because everything seemed fresh and real, easy and non-interfering.

I was young then.

And that morning I was extremely happy. Happy in a sensitive way. Happy that my youth was still there. Happy that the morning was so welcoming. Happy that, I can still overcome. Happy that I was happy! 

Happy that I still have it in me.

The weight of unfulfilled potential, wasted opportunities, years gone by in absolute lethargy, seem to considerably lessen from my mind.

My mind was fresher, sharper than it had been in years.

I realized that my slump, my downfall as an individual, had been so much a product of my mind's awful condition, than anything else.

Yes, I admit that my mind was completely screwed up for the last few years. Something went terribly wrong at some point. It was as if someone had forced a cloak over my mind and held on to it, to avoid my mind from getting the fresh air it so desperately needed for growth and survival.

But now the cloak was gone. Briefly, I grieved at what I had lost. I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked at my out of shape body, thought about my knees that were often struggling to support its weight these days. I looked at my face and realized that this was not the face I had in 2007. 

I looked up a photo from 2007. Yes, I looked different. I had looked so happy and youthful in 2007. I had grown 4 years in time but looked as if I had grown 20.

You know, you can see it when a person's face loses its glow. I looked at me (at my eyes), and realized that the glint in them was missing. They looked sullen in a dead way. There was no longer the joy that was omnipresent even three years ago.

I looked like a man trying to live a life because he should. Not because he could. If you get the difference.

Ah, I waved that off. I put on fresh clothes, after washing up. I wore my shoes and stepped out for a walk.

And then I also realized how stiff my body had become. It was an ordeal to walk a kilometre, including the return journey.

I was also not helped by some silly bad luck. My left shoe tore. My right shoe was already in a bad condition but this was it.

Half-way I took a rickshaw home.

But I had still enjoyed the experience somewhat.

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In hindsight, I realize that (touch wood) I have lost some of the anxiety and distress that I was feeling after July. After leaving MBA, I had maintained a firm exterior, yet I was shocked inside. It was life-changing for me and I knew it. The shock of it was so immense that despair had taken over my life for the next three months.

Yes, I took the final decision on my MBA. I decided to leave. But now I realized that the most important reason I left was not the expense of two more years. Not the curriculum. Not the chaos. Not the atmosphere. Not uncertainty. Not the field.

The most important reason was that my mind was about to crack with the weight of the baggage I was carrying. The present becomes redundant, and then a burden, when it involves deep personal strife and trauma. Sometimes we do not realize our own trauma. 

I wanted a new lease of life. I wanted the difficulties of my mental being to vanish. I had chased the MBA dream for years and years. To get out of it was very tough and yet I knew that I had to quit it. Because the apple had turned bad before I could relish it. I just knew, deep inside, that I must leave.

Dragging it to a conclusion by living in it for two more years would have been devastating.

When an atmosphere becomes noxious, when a phase of life becomes toxic and masochistic, it has to be left behind as soon as possible. Otherwise it becomes a cancer that your being cannot escape.

And I did just that.

But for two months after returning home, the past continued to haunt me and the uncertainty of the future left me shocked, bewildered, and paranoid.

That morning seems to have changed all this. Touch wood.

What preceded the morning was a dream.

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I remember the dream because I chose to. Psychology says that happens. At least my sister tells me so. I decided to remember it because it seems valuable.

I had boarded a train from one of those well-built New Bombay stations. My destination was Mumbai CST. The train chugged on. It was nearly empty. I was feeling uneasy throughout the journey.

Finally I reached the destination. The scene changed. My short work was over and now I was heading back. I had to reach the same New Bombay station again. This time as the train started, I was feeling distinctly better. Something like you would feel if your mind has been healed, or is being healed, as the journey continues.

As the train passed stations, some celebrities got on. Noble celebrities, I must add. A woman deeply involved in a real crusade that's making news today. Some others, less known but probably noble in the dream. I tried to catch their attention, but couldn't. And yet I knew somehow, that they knew about my presence, and they liked it.

I fell asleep in my dream. When I woke the woman had alighted, and so had some others.

I reached my boarding station again, happier. Outside the morning shone innocently, happily. I woke up. The woman had probably signified the cleansing of the strife inside me. 

All the while I had been travelling with some faceless, vague, voiceless friend. He/she was there just because they had to apparently. That was their purpose.

The train. The stations. The people. The contrasting emotions. The conclusion.

Do you believe in dream interpretation? Apparently it's not all BS, it has some scientific basis. But I will leave you to find out what trains and stations signify, if you are interested. They themselves have several interpretations. I know which one was the one that worked on me though. :) 

I hope this lasts, too.

Pranav

P.S.: The Westlife song "Seasons in the Sun" almost accurately portrays my state of mind that morning. Those who are able to feel the emotion involved in it, will know how I felt.