When I Die

Why I Don't Dream Anymore

Dreams, they say, are an extension of reality. They are moments from real life that freeze in your brain, and then get released into your visual matrix while you sleep. But the dreams that I've had, just couldn't be real. They just couldn't be. So in this entry, let me share some of the dreams that I've dreamed.



The earliest dream that I remember having, was when I was seven. I had dreamed that I was sleeping in my room, the window was open, and then, suddenly, a big wolf came inside the room through the window, and began to bite me. He bit off my leg, and I winced in pain and called out daddy's name. Daddy came in my room, and after seeing what had happened, he said 'Haha, do it again'. The wolf bit off my second leg. Then my hand, then my other hand, and then he creeped up to my face, ready to rip my head apart. I could feel his foul breath, his saliva dripping on my mouth, and then he let out a loud roar, a roar that shook me out of sleep.

I never slept well for two weeks after that. I never talked to daddy for five weeks.

After that, I dreamed of such things all the time. Once I dreamed that I was alone in a jungle, the starry night freezing me to my bone. And then, a huge vulture came down, and clawed itself on my hand. He seemed to be friendly, and I even knew his name!
He told me about how the forest was dying and how it needed my help. So I flew along with the vulture over the entire forest, and over a huge volcano, where the bird dropped me, and I fell into the lava. He was screaming 'sacrifice yourself for the forest... your flesh shall quench the Fire's thirst...'

I've had a freaked out childhood. I wetted my bed everynight, I was awake when I peed in my bed, but I just couldn't muster up enough courage to leave my bed and go to the loo. God only knows what horrors awaited me there.

When I was ten, I remember, I had a beautiful dream. The first dream that wasn't scary. I saw myself walking in a huge, lovely garden, full of lush fields of flowers and gigantic trees. Then, a little girl with golden hair, sitting atop a tree, called out my name. a moment later, I was on top of that tree. I don't know how. She was wearing a nice little gown, and she reached out and took my hand, and jumped up to her full little height and kissed me, and said 'I love you'. She gave me her little teddy bear, that she so obviously loved, and led me into a hole in the tree, and we sat inside there, and a nice fluffy squirrel came in. She could talk. The squirrel gave us peanuts and told us a nice little joke. The girl then said 'Let's go pick some mangoes' and I ran behind her. And that's when my mom woke me up. Woke me up from the only happy dream I've ever had

Then I had a dream where I saw myself holding a gun. [I'd been watching too much of 'cowboy central' lately] and I saw that three people stood in front of me. A huge crowd gathered behind me, and screamed 'kill them! kill them!" And I killed them. three shots. Three bullets. In the head. And I saw the blood trickle down from their heads. And I cried. When I awoke, My eyes were moist, and my pillow was wet. I never watched that show again.

I had a dream during diwali. Diwali, is a hindu festival, where people burst lots of crackers.
I saw that all of us friends were bursting crackers, you know, the ones which give out a nice little shower of fire-flakes. I saw that Willy [ one of my brotherhood ] lit up one such firecracker, and it burst up in his face. He was crying, pleading for someone to help him, as the fire burned through his skin, charring it forever. From that day, I stopped bursting crackers altogether.

I still peed in my bed every night.

When I was thirteen, I dreamt that I was standing on top of a thirty-three floor building, everyone was congratulating me for something. And a bunch of pretty girls came up to me and kissed me, and then, said 'goodbye' and pushed me of the top. I saw myself falling, and when there were only two more floors left between me and imminent death, I woke up. Surprisingly, I'm not afraid of heights, not even now.

When I was fifteen, I dreamt that I was standing at the sea shore with my love, and then we were both on a boat, and then she was in the water, calling out my name, saying 'help me, don't let me die' and I couldn't jump into the water because I couldn't swim, and I saw her drown in the water. I saw this dream after I'd gotten the news of the earthquake.

I'd stopped wetting my bed now. I was so pissed off, and I wanted to die anyway. I had no fear of dying now. So I calmly went to the loo when I felt like it, and almost everytime, I screamed it out loud in the loo everynight saying 'hey! demons, monsters, vampires, whoever you are, come and kill me. I want to die. Just do it fast and efficiently, I don't want to die painfully.'

I once dreamed that I was a mighty pirate, stealing stuff from everyone and living like a king. This dream didn't end in tragedy. But it ended in regret. I saw a man with a black mask fighting me, and then he took out some powder, and changed me into a crow.

I've never had erotic or 'wet' dreams. Thank you very much.

I once dreamed that I was on a mountain, all alone, looking down at the forests below, and then something inside told me that I was the last man alive on the planet. I sat down on the mountain and slept. And I dreamt a dream inside that dream. How it is possible, I don't know, but the real thing is, I knew in the first dream, that I was dreaming in the other dream. In that dream, I saw a dove, flying in the clear blue sky, and then a bullet slashed through it's white feathers, and they turned a crimson red, as the bird fell down.... I woke up inside the dream, and a few moments later, I woke up in real life. This single incident, is the reason why I said the things I said in the entry called 'it's not easy being paranoid'

In all these years, I've only had one good dream, and given a choice, I'd stay in that dream with that lovely little girl forever, chatting away with the squirrel, the girl hugging her little teddy bear, and sitting on my lap, kissing me and kissing the teddy bear and saying 'I love you both'. Man, that's a dream I want to live again. I don't need money. I don't need love. I don't need a life. I just want to be inside that dream, forever. I still have to go and pick some mangoes...



Now, I don't dream anymore. Because there isn't anything that I can dream of. My mind, I think, now knows that dreams can never become real.

Now, I don't dream. Maybe my brain is just tired, or maybe it's the fact that I don't sleep much anymore, or maybe it is that just like my wishes, and my body, and my love, and my soul, my dreams have died.


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