Monday, April 6, 2009

in which world am I stuck?

It was late evening. As usual I had my dinner early and as planned headed for the terrace of the unfinished building. Being afraid of heights, the climb was scary to say the least. But the effort was well paid for. The breeze had this eerie effect and set a tempo for the rest of the evening. Lying on my back, I was counting the stars that I heard a sound from the other corner of the building. A girl in white sari had also climbed up the building was sitting by the edge. Her hair was left loose and was blowing in the breeze. She had this dreamy, sad expression on her face. The strange part was that I called her by some name (i don't remember) and she got up, came near me and sat by my side.

But the strangest part was that she looked at me and asked why I hated myself. I must say I don't hate myself per se. Everyone has complaints. My complaint register runs miles and miles in length and I admit that if I had a chance I would have done some things better. I can (with much confidence) say that I made many mistakes and that I've spent far too many nights regretting them but I don't hate myself. But the case was different. I heard myself saying wierd things to her. I heard myself saying that I hated myself for not growing up. For being such an open book. People could see through my feelings as if I was nothing but a silly see-through gown. People read my feelings as if I was a damn page out of a bloody Jeffrey Archer novel. I hated myself for not knowing occlumency. I looked in her eyes, my eyes searching for solace but there was none. And then suddenly she said, "You know you can jump from here." I first laughed and then felt angry that how could she even say something like that. But before I could anything she was gone. I felt a slight jerk and awoke with a start.

Soon I realized that it was a dream.
I sat up and looked at the sky. Then I stood up and walked to the edge of the building. My legs were shaking as if any moment they would betray me and I would fall. Taking some half a dozen steps back, I looked forward, took a deep breath. Gathering some momentum I ran forward and jumped out of the building. But before the rubble and dust could come and kiss me I awoke cold and shivering, my temples drenched with sweat. Now this is the part where I should say that I'm happy that the nightmare was behind me. But oddly enough I felt a pang of relief run through my body.


[epilogue] - Walking past the library, I gazed at the building concentrating at the part from where I had jumped and traced the path to the ground. I closed my eyes and imagined something heavy hit the ground. I went to the spot and looked at it carefully that I was reminded of what Morpheus said in The Matrix.

"Have you ever had a dream, Neo, that you were so sure was real. What if you were unable to wake from that dream. How would you know the difference between the dream world and the real world?"