Dreams are momentaneous, and so were with her dreams. She was well aware of this fact but still, what she wanted most, was a taste of her one favourite dream. It was a dream which she had never dreamt, but had only imagined with her open eyes. A figment of her own witting, they were ingrained deep in the crevasses of her conscious. And all she ever did was to play it over and over in her head, with a hope that someday when she opens her eyes; she would wake up to her dream. She was eager beyond measures. So much so, that now those images seemed almost real.

And then one day, when she opened her eyes…

It was dark all around. An alien feeling gnawed her on the inside, when she tried to look around. She somehow had an inkling that she was not in her room. The place was cool and breezy and she felt herself lying on something soft. She was unable to appraise where exactly she was. All she remembered was sleeping in the hotel bedroom in Paris or was it a memory of some distant past? Her head was filled with confusion. She closed her eyes again. She needed to clear the confusion that had clouded her head. She took a moment too long to open her eyes. Her movements were slow. She was a little scared.  When she finally did open her eyes, it took her some time to get adjusted to the little light that was scattered around. She slowly rose herself up to a sitting position just so that she could gauge as to where she was. And what she saw, filled her with confoundment.

She sat there, almost stupefied, not ready to believe that she was actually there, where she found herself to be. What she saw was something, that she had only dreamt of, till now.  Yes, she had finally woken up to her dream, the one dream that she had most lovingly weaved during her flight of fantasies. The one about which she had filled pages and pages of her diary. And today, it seemed to her that somehow all those words had come to life.
She slowly stood up, wobbling a bit in her action. Her knees seemed to have dissolved in their joints, and it felt as if she was being eddied in the maelstrom of her own fantasy. Somehow she managed to steady herself and regain her composure.  And then she moved a few steps forward, letting her bare feet sink in that cool, soft, malleable sand, making way for her footprints.

What stood before her was the vast expanse of deep blue waters of the sea, which was laid just across the soft glistening white sand lying beneath her feet. She could see how those big white effervescent waves rushed towards the shore, filled with a tumult that was impossible for a sane mind to discern. These waves, it seemed to her, were in some kind of frenzy. From her vantage point she could see these enormous waves inaugurating at the horizon with all the strength and might, hurling towards her, from the far distance, with retribution. But as they neared the shore, they seemed to turn into some kind of timid, impotent creature, tamed by their own overbearing pride, trying hard to take their stab at touching the cherubic apparition who stood at the end of the tide; failing at it, retreating back silently and once again returning with the same vehemence.

She raised her eyes upwards and saw the midnight sky filled with stars. For once it felt as if all the galaxies in the universe have travelled across those million light years and have arrived here today, just so that they could adorn the blank charcoal canvas of the sky with all the constellations there ever were. In one corner of this canvas, hung the sole source of light, that lazy crescent moon, which almost resembled that smiling sleepy moon, the pictures of which she had seen in her book of rhymes when she was just a kid. The sight filled her with an ardor which was par her ability to describe in words and all she could do was to let her lips curve into a smile full of bliss.

She could no more keep herself from touching those waters. It almost felt like some kind of magic spell was working upon her, which was summoning her towards them. In her state of felicity, she ran towards the sea. She halted just at the edge, from where the waters retracted, moving just forward enough to let herself get acquainted with the ethereal feel of those waters. She was afraid to move any further. She feared that, if she did, her touch would taint the purity of those currents. And as she stood there gazing at the sea, she slowly raised her arms, and surrendered herself to that moment of eternity.

She reveled in that instant, letting those waters lap at her feet while she stood with her arms wide open, as if embracing the cool ocean breeze. She stood there with her eyes closed, basking in her delight. Her long brown tresses coursing away from her face in the same way, as her long white skirt did. She stood there, letting the chill seep in her bones and veins and her heart celebrate her being. That was her moment of communion. Communion with her one amorous dream.

Overwhelmed by the magnanimity of the situation, she broke into a dance. A dance to venerate the creation of the divine, which she had been long dreaming of. Her one craft, that she wanted to submit to the one who made her. Swishing with the breeze, skipping, hopping, and flowing with the rhythm of the waves, across the shore. The stars merrily gazed down at that lone soul, sashaying to the music of her own song on that beach.  She sang too, and when she did, it seemed as if, even the waves lulled themselves to silence, just so that they could hear her sing. She walked a little… she danced a little… and she sang. She sang to the waves, and the stars, to the universe and to the divinity, that seemed to have swept her off the hooks of any bounds that she ever had. This was what she had always dreamt of… the freedom that she had always craved for… dancing and singing under the starry sky, on a moonlit night on a white sandy sea shore… all by herself.

She was busy dancing in her merriment when suddenly her foot fell upon something sharp. She cringed in pain and fell to the ground. And that was when she was reeled back to reality…
There she was, lying on bed, her body all numb with paralysis, when she opened her eyes. Machines by her bedside, kept on making their faint noises, some beeping and some droning. The walls of the room that surrounded her were stark white, which on many occasions, she felt, chafing against her sight. Their whiteness tormented her. They somehow reminded her of her blankness. The only things in the name of color in that room were those blue sheets, which covered her limp body. She was surrounded by this void, which was filled with nothing but the nauseating smell of the antiseptics and medicines which was typical for any hospital. And that made her sicker than curing her.

The room was always unusually cold and hard as she tried she could find no source of warmth around. A nurse was there moments ago to administer her daily dose of medicine. It was the prick of that injection that had retroverted her back from her fantasy. She was awake but had kept her eyes closed on purpose. She hated the small talk that the nurse let her into. She hated that look of sympathy for her, which people carried in their eyes when they came to visit her. She hated being like that, helpless, dormant and dependent.

She was a dancer, a free spirit, just like the way she was in her dream. Her dance had led her to places across the world and everywhere she went she had searched for that place which she had seen in her dream. She knew that it existed. She had everything, but what she needed most was that dream and therefore wherever she went, she embarked on its quest. And it was during one such quest that she had met with that woeful accident and now she was here, lying like a vegetable, a deformed body that could feel nothing at all below her waist.

But still… she held on to her dream. She had to. There was no option for her to give up on that. It was the only thing that was keeping her alive. She believed that it was the singular reason for her survival from that accident and now she was more determined than ever before to get back to her feet and start her search again.

She knew that back at home somewhere in her room, midst all the mess, was lying her diary, the onliest confidant of her dream. The words written therein, waiting for her to come back and blow life into them. But she had to wait. She knew not when this wait will get over but she hoped and hoped to the hilt of her prayers that, that day comes soon enough.

She was determined that one day she would dance under the starry sky on a moonlit night on that white sandy sea shore. She was resolute in her desire to live her dream, to turn it into reality. And she knew nothing could make her believe that she could not. Nothing in this unparalleled world could flinch her from her dream. But the wait had not yet culminated and the search was still on. And thus… she closed her eyes and played her dream once again.

6 thoughts on “Her One Amorous Dream

  1. Brilliant i am clapping respectfully. though i read it in half a sleep still it felt so right in front of me. revering and infinite. shall be reading it again soon.
    this made you venerable.


  2. Brainy.
    Smart as whip.

    Took all the synonyms of brilliance. That's this post! Thoroughly loved it like anything. I heart this post!

    Sheer magic delivered in words. Outstanding! 🙂


  3. Your words here are nothing more than giant awe inspiring images on top of another. This very much reminded me of a woman I know. Reading this is like floating around, a sun spark. Great work. Something different. Glad I read this.


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