THESE AWFUL DREAMS

There were many men
Faces hidden
Wearing all white
Carrying some dangerous looking things
Not knives, not swords, something in between
It used to be called, KIRPAN in old days
I guess if I want to translate it, it would be like this,
A knife much longer than a knife
But thats not correct actually
Because Kirpan is long and curved like the moon
But the moon is such a nice, romantic, peaceful word
And Kirpan is a weapon to kill

So they were all carrying kirpans
There were so many men
No matter where we went few of them were there
Standing tall and ominous
There was no escape

We couldn't escape at all
They were pretty un-reasonable
'Why were we trapped?"
That wasn't clear

It seemed like there were two groups
Us and them
Two rivals
Two tribal rivals with lots of hate of centuries
They had come back for revenge
But it wasn't clear what we have done to them in the past
We were also not so many
Neither were we dressed as warriors with kirpans
We were in street clothes
Going on our own way

But what was the way?
Where were we going?
Who were we?
What have we done to these people who came back for revenge?
And why revenge?
Its such an old fashion word
Those dressed in white seemed old fashioned

Violence is old fashion
Or if its new its not done with kirpans
Its done with some other ominous instruments
Instruments one can't see
But instruments of violence exist
But they are pretty modern and fashionable

These men with kirpans seemed barbaric
What have I done to them that they are in my dream?
My dream belongs to me
So I would hope
These days it seemed like so many strange people, animals,dogs, elephants,
Aeroplanes, disasters have invaded my privacy, my sleep
My sleep has been occupied by invaders of all kinds
It seems like as if I am a, 'TRADE ROUTE."
AND ALL TRADERS WANT SPICE OR SILK OR MINERALS OR OPIUM
But i have none of that

I have some salt and pepper, paprika maybe, sounds more exotic
Not even salt, I DON'T TAKE SALT
NO MINERALS OF ANY KIND, NO OPIUM
I DON'T TAKE OPIUM EITHER
i AM A VERY BORING PERSON
Solitary, most of my days
No companions of any kind
No fun…………………..
Even when I see people they have nothing to say
Sometime they say this and that
Nothing of consequence
Most of the time when we meet just by chance
When we are waiting on the opposite side of the road for light to change
We exchange small talk which is actually about business ……..
"Oh! I can't talk, so busy."
"Oh! I can't talk, rushing to a meeting."

People you know in the city some of them, call themselves your friends, leave you very very fast
But that only happens in your daily life.Isn't it amazing that during the day or evening, you do want to hang out with some one but no one is around
They are all in a meeting
And at night time when one want to get a few hours of sleep, just a few hours of peaceful sleep
People, strangers, monsters come in herds and give you company and never leave but keep frightening company all night…

Maybe they hate you so much that they want you to have a heart attack because of the fright
That would be a good way to die actually
'Oh! he died last night."
'How?"
'In his sleep."
"Of what?"
"Of a heart attack."
The best way to go……………..

I used to try to analyze my dreams
But they were so complicatedly morbid that I stopped
Now I put it out to you
You and many of you are much smarter than me and are,"EXPERTS." of some kind
I know you are….
Thus city is the city of knowledge and finance and art and culture and analysis and of opinions
So I thought I will just put it out there what I experience at night and look forward to your
Varied Freudian deconstruction of all the elements of sub conscious and conscious and what happened to us in our childhood

I really don't know what happened in my childhood except that I was happy, very very happy or perhaps I THOUGHT THAT I WAS HAPPY.
But I know and believe that I was very happy as a child but it took place somewhere else
And this place, my days and my nights are taking place in an other place which seems alien
to me and the aliens come crowding my head at night but how come they don't talk to me during the day

Why do they always rushing me by as if I am an alien to them, as if they are scared of me, as if I am their bad dream, they are dreaming while crossing the street………………..
I wonder what kind of childhood they had?
Some people say that they were raped by their father or uncle or even grand father
Some people say that their father killed their mother and then killed many of his neighbors and then killed himself
Some people say that they left when they were twelve and never saw their parents again
Some people say that they killed their parents before they left and have never been caught
and are now C. E. O of the big banks…….

But I never had any of those things
'Trauma'  I would call it.
We didn't kill any one
We didn't get raped
We didn't steal other people's property
We didn't shoot the neighbors………….
We only went to school and studied
And studied hard.

In those education mattered
Educations was as popular as guns today.Now guns matter
Every one shooting every one else
I guess its good
They are taking care of all the guns and knives and killing each other during the day light
So they can sleep peacefully at night

Maybe I should do that
Kill a few people or animals during the day to keep my mind busy
And relax at night and sleep
I guess there is a saying, 'When a good days work is done well, one can sleep well."
I should get busy
Getting old and getting very tired of the nightmares
They are constant and persistent
'Persistence is all."
'Perseverance is all."
Such nice words…
'Constant."
'Persistent."
'Perseverance."