Posts Tagged ‘Dream’
There she was! He ran after her, was about to tap on her shoulder but she vanished into the thin air. He was baffled, he frantically searched for her but she was no where to be seen. It was as if she was playing “Catch me if you can” game with him. He was desperate to see her face, but she eluded him. He could spot her from distance but as soon as he reached just near her she would disappear. He tried to call after her but his voice failed him. He fell down on his knees in that dark alley and watched his dream girl float away.
He woke up with a start… looked around and smiled to himself, shaking his head. He had this dreams since a long time. He never understood the context. His dream always ended up with that girl floating away. There was some lyrical mystery surrounding her. Sometimes he found himself reciting some verses for her in his dreams. Most of the times he didn’t remember but sometimes he did and he would write it down immediate after waking up. He had now a handsome collection of these poems. In his dreams she would, too, leave her diary at various places for him to read. She wrote such beautiful prose. If only he could see her face once! He sighed and got up to get ready for his job.
As he was blog hopping one day he came across this blog whose author, he found, had the same style of writing as his “dream girl”. He read post after post and got hooked to it. He tried to find out about this anonymous writer through “about page” but came up with almost nothing. The things mentioned in there were non-committal. He waited for her (he was sure it was HER!) new post thirstily, as if his life depended on it. Over a period of time he could manage to develop a good rapport with the author but she was still eluded him. How much ever he tried, she would not allow him to know her in real life. She now became his obsession. He would check her blog every half an hour to see if she had replied to his comments or if she had published a new post. He would become agitated or depressed if she did not reply to his comments. He would feel on top of the world if she so much as put a smiley as a reply to his comments.
Things started changing when more and more people started visiting the “unknown blog” and “she” would reply to all of her commenters with the same gusto. He started feeling jealous. He started feeling left out. He felt as if his world was coming apart….
I am not sure how to end this story. Can you guys help?
First day at Leelapur, an interior hamlet in Utter Pradesh, was like a rude shock for Kahan. Till now he had read about hunger and destitute in books, but never was he in such close quarters with either. He was to serve as an intern in this village for three months. He was allotted a room besides the so-called dispensary. The room was almost the size of his bathroom at home. There was a wrought iron bed in the corner and the mattress did not look too inviting. Now he wasn’t even sure of safe drinking water either.
“Sir, would you like to rest today and start seeing patients tomorrow?” Dukhiya, the attendant, asked half expecting Kahan to run away from this place as soon as possible.
Kahan looked around and did not find any incentive to stay back in the room.
“Come, we will see how many patients are there!” replied Kahan.
“Only a couple of them as there is no doctor for about six months now. The nurse is managing with whatever he has.”
Kahan nodded somberly. He was too overwhelmed by his surrounding to say anything else. As they started towards dispensary, Dukhiya started filling him in about the village and its people. But his conversance did not prepare Kahan for what he was to see in the coming three months.
“Tell me something, why is your name “Dukhiya?” asked Kahan to feel a bit lighter.
“I am told that when I was a baby I used to cry a lot and always had a frown on my face, hence the name.” answered Dukhiya with a grin. Kahan noticed missing incisors. Dukhiya was a slight man with a slouch. His face was weather beaten and lined deeply. Later during his stay he observed that most of the adults in this village looked prematurely aged and had deeply lined faces at very young age.
He was reminded of “colour streaked” hair of young ladies of his city when he saw “flag sign” of malnutrition in the kids here. For one it was fashion, for other it was an aftermath of privation! Day after day Kahan saw and felt despair. Basic amenities were luxury here. He felt helpless when he could not give injection to many of the children because there was no muscle mass to poke needle into. He was a theist but looking around now, his faith in God was quivering.
“Sir, sir….” shouted Dukhiya knocking at Kahan’s door. Kahan got up from his slumber with a start. He heard dread in Dukhiya’s voice.
“What could it be at this hour!” wondered Kahan looking at his watch. It showed 2 am.
“What is it? Why do you look so alarmed?” asked Kahan while still trying to get oriented to his wakeful state.
“Come sir, come fast, Bijuri is bleeding profusely.”
This was not the first emergency since he came to this village two and half months back, but he had never seen Dukhiya dismayed before. They almost ran to the consulting room. He saw a thin young woman sitting on the floor with her head bowed and her chaperone was crying and cursing profusely. He assumed that they were a mother-daughter duo. As it turned out, the daughter, Bijuri, was a widow since she was sixteen and presently she was brought here as she had miscarried. That explained the cursing. Bijuri did not look up nor did she say anything. It was difficult to tell from her demeanour what was she feeling and it was equally difficult to gauge her age, but she looked to be in her twenties.. With the treatment done he was requested to keep the matter to himself. He reassured them as he sent the duo home.
Feeling numb, Kahan dragged himself to his room and tried to sleep.
He dreamt of a young girl wearing floral pink and yellow frock running around in the field with a balloon in her hand, her unruly hair bouncing with each gallop. He hears her laughter. She runs into a boy and they both hold hands and play some more. The boy is called away leaving behind the girl alone. A small tear trickles down her chubby cheek. She looks around to play with somebody but found herself alone. Suddenly the little girl is whisked away by a lot of skinny and ravenous people. The girl starts wailing and the whole universe is filled with her cry. Kahan wants to snatch her away from the mob but his hands can’t reach her. He sees her being dragged away. Then he sees her again at his clinic, with her head bowed and bleeding. He sees the blood all over the floor. He wipes and wipes but the blood won’t go away. She sits there in the pool of blood looking at Kahan. Kahan frantically tries to stop the bleeding. Bleeding stops. She smiles at him, a rueful smile and walks away. Kahan runs behind her, to find her, to protect her, to tell her that life is much more than what she has found it to be. He runs and runs through the narrow lanes and fields to catch her, frantically looking for her. She slips away. Then he sees her again, on the other end of the field standing under a sandalwood tree. He could smell the perfume. He breathes deeply to fill his being with the aroma. He gingerly takes the steps towards the girl. He reaches the sandalwood tree and looks around for her. His head collides with something hanging from the tree. There he finds her finally, hanging by the twine, a small smile playing on her lips. But this is not the same girl who had come to his clinic. This is the girl with the balloons in her hands…the nine year old girl! Suddenly the mob appears and starts pelting the girl’s dead body with stones.
Kahan wakes up drenched in his own sweat!