A steel grey SUV roared past as I stepped out of my car, almost knocking an old woman down. I glared at the car and if looks could kill, the car would have probably gone up in smoke. Anyway, as that was not to be, I went about my work. Like Arjuna, my goal was pin-pointed and I barely had but a few seconds to ogle at the latest electronic gadgets on display. It was a Saturday and the book-shop was obviously crammed with book-lovers. “Sigmund Freud?” The man gave me one look and fished out the book I wanted. I hugged the newspaper wrapped “Interpretation of Dreams” close to me and walked back to my car.
It was a warm humid summer morning of 2005. I woke up from a deep slumber with a feeling of elation, confusion and satisfaction. I just had the most wonderful dream of my life. Wonderful because I saw someone whom many would love to see in their dreams.
I was walking in a courtyard, which had a two storied building built on all the three sides, similar to a digital C. There was an open space in front with some trees further ahead. The walls of the building were a pale blue colour and bore no ornamentation. There was a darker shade of blue which ran all around the rim of the walls. All the doors and windows of the building were shut and there was not a person to be seen in sight. I was not doing anything in particular but just looking around to see if I could find somebody.
Just then, in one of the verandahs of the first floor, I spied the cutest looking baby I had ever come across.
He had chubby cheeks, pink lips and eyes that sparked brightly, emanating a strange strength and power which I could feel even in my dreams. What captivated me was the colour of his skin. It was pale blue and glowed like the full moon on a dark night sky. While keeping his left arm folded on the edge of the verandah, he rested his chin on the palm of the other. He wore intricately designed gold bracelets and armlets. And of course how could I forget to mention the one ornament that impressed me the most; the peacock feather stuck to the decorative headband. I was past recognizing who he was more so because I was simply fascinated by the smile he flashed at me. From the distance that I was standing below him, I could feel a sense of warmth pleasantly radiating from this little baby. I simply basked in this feeling till I woke up to realize that I had just dreamt of baby Lord Krishna.
It was an ecstatic feeling, an elation that I could describe as an all time high. How could the Lord come to the dreams of a person who hardly even thought of him? But does it really matter that I had enacted the baby Lord as a child of nursery class? Maybe yes, maybe not. For me, what mattered was that my entire day went off in peace; no anger, no trouble, just plain blissful contentment. I even smiled at the person who honked incessantly for him to pass.
Both my Satriya Gurus became emotional when I related the exotic dream to them. With tears streaming down their eyes, they gathered that I was the chosen one by the Lord. But chosen one, for what? I asked. I was told to look for signs whence the Lord would gift me with a surprise. I was more than thoroughly excited!
A year passed since I dreamt of the Lord. Nothing actually happened but I secretly hoped that He would gift me the one thing that I craved for. Soon, my dream took a backseat and I got down to serious work. I toiled day and night on projects related to my profession. I had to move in and out of the city, visiting metros and meeting people. The hills of Arunachal and the rapids of Subhansiri too beckoned me for an escapade. Life was exciting.
On one occasion, while I was on stage speaking to a crowd of two thousand people, I had this strange feeling that something was just not right. With me? Yes. I could feel darkness enveloping me and I broke into a cold sweat. Beads of perspiration flowed like rivulets down my forehead, cheeks, back and my feet turned icy cold. My muga mekhela-sador felt drenched and I was on the verge of collapsing at the lectern. That night, I called home only to be told that I had had a ‘tiny’ angina of the heart. An angina? I was shell shocked!
Dejection took the better of me for the next two days. After the business sessions, I would be perpetually holed up in my room, taking care not to exert myself. I scolded myself for being so gluttonous during lunch and wished hard I didn’t take that extra piece of meat. I lived virtually on low cal fruit salads for the next few days of the conference, moped around and ate frugally reminding myself constantly that I was now a patient with a heart ailment. My friends were surprised. I, who was raving about going to the disc preferred to watch some baloney on television while I propped myself with fluffy pillows all around. Well, I had my reasons. However, Raki, a friend had a different explanation altogether.
On returning home, I was told to go for a Treadmill ECG. What the heck? I didn’t do it. But went about my work as usual. Not to be stupefied by anything, I even did a ‘war dance’ during one of the family get-togethers, only to be chided by my mother who thought I was going overboard with the whole thing and that I needed to be careful. Careful? For what?
And then, one day, I was all dressed and ready for a business trip to Shillong when I heard Mubin call out to me loudly, which could be said to be a concoction of a wail, a moan and a single guffaw. I rushed to the study room only to see him hold onto a small white instrument with somewhat of jubilation and concern writ large over his face. What now? This time, I definitely must be needing some serious treatment, I thought. Looking over his reading glasses, he said, “It’s positive. I need to talk to Dad.”
There was a lot of discussion downstairs and after some time, hubby walked upstairs only to tell me that the trip was off and I needed total bed rest. The rest as we all say is history.
Tirus, now one year and five months, wants to listen to ‘Gaang’ on the FM channels, his favourite singer being Zubeen. He loves to shake a leg to Bryan Adams and knows how to start the computer. He blows kisses at everyone and loves to sit on my lap and hold onto the steering when I am driving. And he simply loves to sip tea from his Dad’s cup in the morning.
When I look at his face, I wonder if the dream of 2005 has any reflection to Tirus. You may call it an incarnation, a Sigmund Freud explanation, a coincidence or simply a blessing. Tirus, my Krishna!
It was a warm humid summer morning of 2005. I woke up from a deep slumber with a feeling of elation, confusion and satisfaction. I just had the most wonderful dream of my life. Wonderful because I saw someone whom many would love to see in their dreams.
I was walking in a courtyard, which had a two storied building built on all the three sides, similar to a digital C. There was an open space in front with some trees further ahead. The walls of the building were a pale blue colour and bore no ornamentation. There was a darker shade of blue which ran all around the rim of the walls. All the doors and windows of the building were shut and there was not a person to be seen in sight. I was not doing anything in particular but just looking around to see if I could find somebody.
Just then, in one of the verandahs of the first floor, I spied the cutest looking baby I had ever come across.
He had chubby cheeks, pink lips and eyes that sparked brightly, emanating a strange strength and power which I could feel even in my dreams. What captivated me was the colour of his skin. It was pale blue and glowed like the full moon on a dark night sky. While keeping his left arm folded on the edge of the verandah, he rested his chin on the palm of the other. He wore intricately designed gold bracelets and armlets. And of course how could I forget to mention the one ornament that impressed me the most; the peacock feather stuck to the decorative headband. I was past recognizing who he was more so because I was simply fascinated by the smile he flashed at me. From the distance that I was standing below him, I could feel a sense of warmth pleasantly radiating from this little baby. I simply basked in this feeling till I woke up to realize that I had just dreamt of baby Lord Krishna.
It was an ecstatic feeling, an elation that I could describe as an all time high. How could the Lord come to the dreams of a person who hardly even thought of him? But does it really matter that I had enacted the baby Lord as a child of nursery class? Maybe yes, maybe not. For me, what mattered was that my entire day went off in peace; no anger, no trouble, just plain blissful contentment. I even smiled at the person who honked incessantly for him to pass.
Both my Satriya Gurus became emotional when I related the exotic dream to them. With tears streaming down their eyes, they gathered that I was the chosen one by the Lord. But chosen one, for what? I asked. I was told to look for signs whence the Lord would gift me with a surprise. I was more than thoroughly excited!
A year passed since I dreamt of the Lord. Nothing actually happened but I secretly hoped that He would gift me the one thing that I craved for. Soon, my dream took a backseat and I got down to serious work. I toiled day and night on projects related to my profession. I had to move in and out of the city, visiting metros and meeting people. The hills of Arunachal and the rapids of Subhansiri too beckoned me for an escapade. Life was exciting.
On one occasion, while I was on stage speaking to a crowd of two thousand people, I had this strange feeling that something was just not right. With me? Yes. I could feel darkness enveloping me and I broke into a cold sweat. Beads of perspiration flowed like rivulets down my forehead, cheeks, back and my feet turned icy cold. My muga mekhela-sador felt drenched and I was on the verge of collapsing at the lectern. That night, I called home only to be told that I had had a ‘tiny’ angina of the heart. An angina? I was shell shocked!
Dejection took the better of me for the next two days. After the business sessions, I would be perpetually holed up in my room, taking care not to exert myself. I scolded myself for being so gluttonous during lunch and wished hard I didn’t take that extra piece of meat. I lived virtually on low cal fruit salads for the next few days of the conference, moped around and ate frugally reminding myself constantly that I was now a patient with a heart ailment. My friends were surprised. I, who was raving about going to the disc preferred to watch some baloney on television while I propped myself with fluffy pillows all around. Well, I had my reasons. However, Raki, a friend had a different explanation altogether.
On returning home, I was told to go for a Treadmill ECG. What the heck? I didn’t do it. But went about my work as usual. Not to be stupefied by anything, I even did a ‘war dance’ during one of the family get-togethers, only to be chided by my mother who thought I was going overboard with the whole thing and that I needed to be careful. Careful? For what?
And then, one day, I was all dressed and ready for a business trip to Shillong when I heard Mubin call out to me loudly, which could be said to be a concoction of a wail, a moan and a single guffaw. I rushed to the study room only to see him hold onto a small white instrument with somewhat of jubilation and concern writ large over his face. What now? This time, I definitely must be needing some serious treatment, I thought. Looking over his reading glasses, he said, “It’s positive. I need to talk to Dad.”
There was a lot of discussion downstairs and after some time, hubby walked upstairs only to tell me that the trip was off and I needed total bed rest. The rest as we all say is history.
Tirus, now one year and five months, wants to listen to ‘Gaang’ on the FM channels, his favourite singer being Zubeen. He loves to shake a leg to Bryan Adams and knows how to start the computer. He blows kisses at everyone and loves to sit on my lap and hold onto the steering when I am driving. And he simply loves to sip tea from his Dad’s cup in the morning.
When I look at his face, I wonder if the dream of 2005 has any reflection to Tirus. You may call it an incarnation, a Sigmund Freud explanation, a coincidence or simply a blessing. Tirus, my Krishna!
