A Dream to Remember

Let me begin with the cliched line-"dreams are a reflection of your innermost desires". Having said so, I refuse to believe that any deep subconscious part of me desires to have my boyfriend suddenly develop questionable assets (okay, maybe I do ) and certainly no I don't want to have a gnome hit me with a huge lathi each time I tell a lie, nor do I want to be around anything possessing supernatural powers. Personally I prefer daydreaming any time & have been an active practitioner since school days (continuing while at boring meetings at work).

I get sleep paralysis often which happens I guess due to asphyxiation when I do the very lovable "fan on full-speed & whole body wrapped up in a blanket from head to toe" thing. It's a horrible horrible feeling to realize you're up but your body isn't. You're screaming but no voice comes out and sometimes you see dark objects loitering around to add to the fun. This one time I did sit up straight & actually heard laughter somewhere near my head in a different voice. Unsurprisingly the only thought that came to my mind was -"Wow, I'm Voldemort with a Potter inside my head!"

Image from wikimedia)

But we're supposed to talk about a dream that stayed. And everyone knows how rarely that happens. Most often we remember bits and pieces. Most often we scare others by laughing in the middle of the night (yes little sister, I'm looking at you). Some people dream of the beach & the waves and wake up in a pool of their own pee. Some people get dreams about exams & flunking them, long after college (thank you Indian education system). And  some lucky bastards just snore & have a dreamless stupor.

The one dream that I always remember which had me in ecstasy at one moment & majorly suicidal the next, was when i was in Class 10th. Harry Potter & the Order of the Phoenix had released then and I was a neo Potterhead. No amount of tears & promises of scoring above 90% could persuade my parents to spend so much on just one book(middle-class upbringing). So I was pleasantly surprised when one morning my father gifts me the book. The fact that the book's dimensions resembled that of a question bank didn't alert me. My subconscious brain even fabricated some chapters which I obviously don't remember now. And so when i finally wake up on chapter 3 or so, I literally checked my bed for the book before realising it was all a dream! Major disappointment. No wonder I still remember the dream more than a decade later.

Now I own the entire Potter series and a Kindle. Unless it's Stephen King I'm reading , I'm all set for the night. 

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.


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