Tag Archives: death

Vague Dreams


My dreams are always the weirdest amongst my friends… They are funny and vivid and senseless and amazing.. Things change shape in less than a millionth fraction of a second and a series of inter-connected scenes are created that have no link with each other and yet they are all connected to me!!! I’m sharing them today because Kritika had a horrible one yesterday and I need to make her feel better about it.. By narrating mine, I’ll make her realize that such dreams are stupid and they won’t come true!

Last Night… I slept after telling an old friend.. the story of a girl who ran away with her boyfriend, struggled for saving her life and later, with the help of her family started a whole new episode. So the dream began with her face hovering over my motionless body (oh no I was not dead, I was asleep)… She was mumbling something in a language unknown to me and a tear dropped from her eyes and the next moment I saw a clear water river.. I could see small white stones and grey rock inside the water that were causing disruption in the motion of water.. Yes, no fishes or sea horses in my dream! I know it’s disappointing. Anyways, the small waves turned into a white wedding gown, the lower end of which was caressing the grass as the bride walked down the aisle .. there was no one in the entire area except her… but she did not care, I guess.. she moved towards a mirror and looked straight into my eyes.. oh my, it wass me looking at me.. and all of a sudden.. I relax my raised eye-brow and my lips twirled into a ok-now-I-understand kind of smile and I murmured with a promising simper.. I do!!! And then I heard my sister shouting at me, her irritating words – ‘I don’t care if you die of hunger but you will not get anything to eat until you find my lost lipstick.. How could you give it to Aashi for playing?? You are such an irresponsible shameless irksome fool…..’ That was it.. I picked up a knife and cut the gas-pipe and picked up a match-box from pooja-ghar, opened it and took out a match-stick and almost rubbed it against the box.. But, may be she was quicker than I was.. She jumped over me and I fell on floor bearing the weight of both our bodies and my head hit the sharp edge of her granite kitchen slab and I felt something hot… May be I succeeded in lighting a fire but then I felt a warm fluid in my eyes and the next second, I was sobbing with the same girl who was crying over someone’s dead body.. I’m sure a lot more happened in the dream but I remember only this much!!

PS: If you have a clue why my dreams are so crazy, or if you think they are not because this is what you call a normal dream, or you have a dream to share.. go ahead and tell me!!
Have a happy Sunday!! 🙂

Priyanka

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Grandpa!!!


He would have been as tall as Akshay Kumar.. And, his built, similar to Late Mr. Sunil Dutt (as I have estimated after looking at the old snapshots). By now, he would have turned 90 (My grandma is 82.. so, another guess).. Even at the this age, I believe, he would still have been muscular!

 All that I know about my grand father is through my grandma’s narrations, old video CDs of his children’s wedding and my own imagination! My parents don’t like to talk about him because it makes them emotionally weak, they feel miserable.. They still don’t want to believe that he is no more. As for me, it was not hard to accept because he passed away in 1989 and I was born 2 years later!

Late Shri Sitaram Sabu, was born in Udaipurwati when India was under British rule.. Maa (Grandma) does not remember his birthdate (I wanna know his sun-sign). They got married when Maa was 12 years old (this she remembers, huh!) and he would have been 20 (this she assumed).

He had lived in Rajasthan, Kolkata, Bangladesh, Pakistan, Tamil Nadu and Madhya Pradesh (Indore). He was a part of the Indian struggle for independence. They had 8 children.. 5 boys (2 of whom met their end in childhood) and 2 girls. He was a wonderful, a dependable father to all his children alike and the cutest grandfather to my siblings. I’m the only child in my generation who was unable to meet him, see him.. who was neither pampered nor blessed by him..

This does not make me sad, but deep inside I have this longing.. that if only.. he was there to teach me to speak, to walk, to eat with my own hands.. to scold me if I did something wrong and later, try to convince me to talk to him.. to buy me new clothes every now and then and tell my mom off, if she complained.. to bring me chocolates without any occasions, to give me his collection of stamps as a keepsake (which I have already obtained from my father).. to tell his tale and basically love his smallest, cutest, and most adorable grand-daughter.. I just feel that I was deprived of such a lovely relationship, every time I come across a grand-dad and his little angel in his arms, or find someone who looks like a grand-father!

He was gone before I came, yet I never complain.. I don’t know why!! Knowing about him brings tears in my eyes, but it never makes me unhappy.. I don’t know why!! I never met him, yet I miss him.. I don’t know why!! I dunno him, yet I love him.. .. I don’t know why!! (Please tell me if you have the answers). My closest guess is that there’s a part of him in me which does not like to see me upset..

I know you can’t read this but I hope you do Bauji!

Pranaam

Pinky 🙂 


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