Dreaming in India

Dreams someone had, on a trip, a sort of, a spiritual awakening, I suppose, you can, call it that, translated…

In my forty-two years’ of life, I’d never had any intrigue or encounters with the country or culture of India; and still, as I was searching for keywords for how I can get away from my current environment, someplace I can get away to, all of a sudden, India, surfaced. And so, this trip that’s on a whim started. These sixteen-day unplanned trip to India had turned into this truly impacting experience of my life.

What impacted me, was probably the encounters I’d had on my trip, but what’s wonderful was, what India had, given to me, other than the various rules, the depth of the historic tracks, along with how much the Indians are very faithful, its influence also, found its way, into my dreams, and on the trip, I’d had dreams, almost every single night, and, every time I woke, I’d felt that the dream I woke from was incredible.

how much of what’s dreamed up will be remembered???  Not my picture…

The night I arrived in Delhi, in my dreams, I saw a young boy, who ran quickly past me, and then, he’d, turned his head around, and made a face at me. But, as he’d turned the other way, he’d become, this broken piece of large rock. I’d, screamed aloud, and the next scene, I was, kneeing in a cave, beside the cliffs. The cave wasn’t that deep, and only I, and an urn, with I don’t know what’s in it fitted. As I’d wanted to, extend my legs, and stuck them outside the cave, behind me, in that cramped up space, came echoes, and, there was this, unknown language that echoed at me, as I got up, and try to understand the words, I’d found, that I was, in mid-air. After I woke from shock, there was a line that came to me, I’d quickly, jotted it down: Drifting towards life and death.

For the following nights, my dreams took me to the never-imagined before scenes. Sometimes, I’d, recalled scenes from my childhood, but, those familiar scenes were always, attacked, to some weird space and time: I’d dreamed that I took over the swings from my classmate in the elementary years, I stood on it ecstatically, then, only to find myself, surrounded by utter darkness. In Varanasi, my mother who’d died five years ago, came to me, for the very first time in my dreams, she stood by the dinner tables, and, greeted me as she’d usually done, and I was, smiling in my dreams.

someone dreaming…NOT my picture still…

My trip to India, seemed to have two versions: night and day, until the last day I was leaving the southern seaport town of Kochi. The very last night, I dreamed I was lying on the beach, half my body was covered in sand. Then, all of a sudden, there were, a ton of little people who’d come out from under the sand, they’d moved all over me, lived on me. I’d watched them, and saw myself in the sand, inside the bodies of these, mini people. At which time, there was a voice, “Just like that”. Then, I was, taken, into this, feeling of sorrows instantly.

I can’t remember what it was, only that I was, very sorrowful in my dream, that sorrows became like a tangible building, filled with many dancers, actors and actresses, in colorful clothes, and a temple too. And, as I was watching everything that’s happening all around me, I’d become a statue inside the temple, facing towards everybody who’s entering. Of them, there was, a master, he’d moved towards me, called out to me, then, I’d, leapt from the statue. We stood face-to-face, he’d held my hands tightly, then, let go, and suddenly, I found myself, lying, in the sand again. It’s just, that the sand turned into pairs and pairs, and pairs of hands, moving me forward, in the end, I was, taken into the river.

I’d found this golden tablet, and cried and told it, “I’d searched for you for so long.”, in the end, I was, shocked, out of my own body by this strong force. In my dream, I watched my own body, and, suddenly, it’d, hit me, I’d told myself, “This, is it then.”

I’d not looked deeply into the meanings of these dreams, only recorded them all down, to keep it as a record of me, traveling through time; although, there was this voice inside of me, telling me, “This venture in dream, has more to it”.

not my photo still…

So, this trip to India you took, was very, spiritually enlightening, and, perhaps because you’d arrived to this realm of religion, that, is why you’d had these dreams, and, these dreams, may be parts of the dreams, wishes that the writer felt wasn’t fulfilled in the daytime, and, there are still, many ways that someone can interpret these dreams…

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