Dream

Dream

I’ve been here before. Yes I have been here before. This deafening silence, these fake smiles on suspiciously familiar faces, this unusually bright “keep your seat belts fastened” sign… there is something strange about all this. And look here, this doesn’t look like normal air turbulence outside. The plane is shaking too hard but the weather outside seems to be unusually calm and bright.

The fake bright faced cabin crew member is struggling hard to climb up the slanting aisle towards me. Oh yes the plane is heading straight into the woods. Wait a second, why did I get up? Oh my god why am I opening the emergency gate?

“Come on, the plane is going to crash, let’s get out of here.”

What the hell am I saying? And why are people following my directions? We don’t have any parachutes. How are we going to survive this jump? Hang on. Where did this next plane come from? Am I rescuing people? How did I know there’s a plane coming to rescue us?

“Lets go captain, you can’t save this plane from a crash.”

Why doesn’t he listen to me?

“Turn around, look at me… We can’t save this plane, lets go man.”

Let me get away then.

“To hell with you.”

Thank god the rescue plane is still here.

…

Yes I can see the plane heading into the forest. In a moment there will be an explosion and the whole giant aircraft will explode into pieces. And so will the captain. What a stupid guy.

*******************

He opened his eyes. Perhaps the sudden loud music had woken him up. Lying flat on the carpet with the earphones of his i-pod plugged in, he was looking straight at the ceiling fan. Expressionless as he was, he moved the fingers of his right hand, just to feel the hardness of the metal in his hand. He moved his index finger firm on the metal. Half an hour back, he had pressed it harder and a loud noise had broken out. He moved the fingers on his right hand. Her palm had become cold by now. The wetness between their hands had thickened and was trying hard to stick the palms of their hands together.

He moved his head to look at her. Her eyes were closed but seemed to be aware of the surroundings. Her glowing face was almost on the verge of spreading out a faint conscious smile as if saying I know you are looking at me. Just like the first time he saw her. But this time he didn’t notice where the smile originated from. Instead, his eyes were fixed at the drops of fresh blood on her cheek, giving a new color to the smile, changing the whole meaning of the smile. He moved his head around. The red carpet beneath their bodies had just found a new shade of red dripping out of her body.

He moved his right hand and brought the barrel close to his temple. A repeat action of index finger and he would be off the plane. The plane he knew would crash in a few moments. But his finger didn’t move. The smiling face of the captain flashed before his eyes and he almost mumbled the last words of the captain.

“You save yourself. I am on the path chosen by destiny.”

His grip loosened. It was time to wait now. He saw some faces peeking inside from the window of his living room. There were more people running here and there. He took the earphones out of his ears and closed his eyes back, waiting to hear a familiar music of the doorbell. He gave himself the smile that captain had thrown at him.

*******************

A loud ring of the doorbell woke him up.

“Who is it?”

“Garbage man?”

“Come tomorrow.”

“Ok”

He dragged himself out of the bed to the bathroom. It indeed felt like a long night. He took the brush, applied toothpaste and placed it in his gums. His eyes got fixed at the reflection of the side table in the mirror. A white envelope was lying there, under a thick layer of dust, giving it a brown texture. The thoughts from last night were racing in his mind.

Why didn’t I get off the plane? Why didn’t I pull the trigger? If only I had the access to those things in waking life, I would have done it.

He hated to see the envelope on the table. But he was waiting for the right time, right signs, and right omen. And then something occurred to him. Perhaps the whole story runs other way around.

The envelope holds the key to my dreams.

He got ready for work, stopped at the table, ran his fingers on the layer of dust over the envelope as if writing something on a slate, held the envelope and rushed out.

Later in the evening he smiled at himself in the bed. The envelope was gone. To the place it should have gone months back.

It indeed was a long day.

He switched off the lights.

*******************

“Yes mate. Let’s go. It’s time now.”

Bang!!!