I hate realistic dreams, na, nightmares. They seem so real, so frighteningly real, as though the situations we find ourselves embroiled in a dream is the only truth.
I had a scary nightmare last night that seemed to go on forever, I was in some other country, some other land, in some strange labyrinthine building with huge unending staircases rising all the way to heaven or descending into the bowels of hell, depending on what you were feeling at that particular time. And, I was accompanied by someone, don't ask me who that 'someone' was? for I am none the wiser, was that person a he or a she? is all unbeknownst to me, but he (?) was beside me like a shadow all through my ordeal which lasted forever and then beyond.
I find myself, a stranger to myself, searching for Mustafa. For I have lost him. He is with his friend and I am unable to find the two of them. I go on and on, at first all calm and collected quite sure that they are just a little ahead of me and I'd soon catch up with them, and there isn't a need to worry. But, as I go on in search of them, they move further away, and what seemed initially like a five minute distance between me and my child suddenly multiplies in thousands and then millions of infinite minutes, no hours.
Where is he? and why can I not see him? slowly, I start to panic, there comes over me a certain pathetic frustration, a kind of overwhelming, all encompassing fear, a cold clinching feeling clutches my heart. A sense of foreboding, a slow rising acknowledgement that this separation might become a fact, a reality, a permanent 'is'.
I don't know how the dream ends. I wake up several times and check Mustafa's bed beside me and see him sleeping soundly and go back to my dream with the same fear. I know, all this can be pyschoanalyzed to death and then some more. I have a latent fear of losing my son and in the realms of dream with my guards down; my subconscious fears overtake me and subject me to perils I am scared to face during the brightness of days, when I am awake and conscious.
I had a scary nightmare last night that seemed to go on forever, I was in some other country, some other land, in some strange labyrinthine building with huge unending staircases rising all the way to heaven or descending into the bowels of hell, depending on what you were feeling at that particular time. And, I was accompanied by someone, don't ask me who that 'someone' was? for I am none the wiser, was that person a he or a she? is all unbeknownst to me, but he (?) was beside me like a shadow all through my ordeal which lasted forever and then beyond.
I find myself, a stranger to myself, searching for Mustafa. For I have lost him. He is with his friend and I am unable to find the two of them. I go on and on, at first all calm and collected quite sure that they are just a little ahead of me and I'd soon catch up with them, and there isn't a need to worry. But, as I go on in search of them, they move further away, and what seemed initially like a five minute distance between me and my child suddenly multiplies in thousands and then millions of infinite minutes, no hours.
Where is he? and why can I not see him? slowly, I start to panic, there comes over me a certain pathetic frustration, a kind of overwhelming, all encompassing fear, a cold clinching feeling clutches my heart. A sense of foreboding, a slow rising acknowledgement that this separation might become a fact, a reality, a permanent 'is'.
I don't know how the dream ends. I wake up several times and check Mustafa's bed beside me and see him sleeping soundly and go back to my dream with the same fear. I know, all this can be pyschoanalyzed to death and then some more. I have a latent fear of losing my son and in the realms of dream with my guards down; my subconscious fears overtake me and subject me to perils I am scared to face during the brightness of days, when I am awake and conscious.
Comments
Post a Comment