Sunday, 31 August 2008


Standing tall on the boundary wall of his house he would marvel at those sounds that seemed to come from the panorama in near distance. the view had a garden filled with assorted plants and few benches sprawled along. He wasn't looking at them, though, he was contemplating on the source of his continuous intrigue, "Where does that music come from after all?". There didn't seem to be any inhabitants in near sight, it just appeared to come from the oblivion.

He must find its source today, it has troubled him since many days. He had not dared to explore it earlier, but now the pain of eagerness had tipped his bucket of fear. He must find its source today. Resolutely, he jumped off the wall, looking furtively over the edge of wall, to ensure that no one saw him jump outside, at this time of day, when he was supposed to be lost in his siesta, as his family members were now. He never liked the idea of sleeping in afternoon.Its a sheer waste of time,more so, at this age.

Slowly he trotted towards his target. The sun of summer shone brightly through the ocean of sky, creating a haze in the atmosphere. The heat of summer sun seemed to create a mirage of things around him, and sometimes a spectacle of objects wafting in front of him. It seemed as if plants are dissolved in the air and they are vibrating through the air. What was that plant's real state? Was it really wafting in the air, or was it lying steadily at that distance far away? He couldn't come to a conclusion. The reality was different from different positions. What can be considered as its real identity? And ,what is the real identity of the music that had fascinated him since so many days.

From where he listened the music , it had the feeling of intrigue, but will this feeling stay same if I reach there? As he trotted towards it, the source of music appeared to move farther, but increasing in its magnitude. What a paradox! There certainly was some intrigue hidden behind that source. As he moved further he conjured up the time since when he has been intrigued about it. The variety of music was eclectic. Ranging from devotional in morning to filmy in afternoon and evening. Almost on each occasion the choice of the song concurred so well with his mood. How can there be such a source of music that agrees so much with my mood, and that too everyday.

He recalled how one day , this music had lifted him up when he was lying dejected into a corner of his room ,after having failed in his eyes. How it had lifted him up to smile and take up another step. How it had made him dance in his thoughts on those numerous afternoons and evenings.Who would be that person whose thought matches so much with my mood?

As he reached near to the garden, an inexplicable fear sneaked into him, slithered through his mind, and took control of his will. He cowered with fear; fear of finding the truth; fear of loss of intrigue, fear of unknown. However, putting them behind,he entered into the garden. As he passed through the pavement in the garden, the sound seemed to grow larger and larger and it just felt that he was very near to his source of intrigue. He took a glance at the benches and trees on both sides of the pavement. Benches were desolate, but they carried a lot of warmth in them, inviting him to spare a moment or two with him. Trees were burnt with the heat of merciless summer, but they bore the scalding and smiled with grace on him, asking him to smile a little. They seemed to implore him to take its shade and smile and learn its secret of life .

But he was too engrossed in his thought of discovering the source of music. Doesn't that music has effect on them? He took an another glance at them and found them as persistent as he saw them a moment before. Inviting him to embrace them. He shrugged. He swiveled and sauntered towards the source of music.

After a few steps that he took, he found an enclosure, covered with creeper. Flowers blossomed all over its surface. It seemed to be shrouded with a layer of sweet fragrance. But the presence of such a desolate beauty pushed in doubts in his mind.Apprehensively he moved towards it, and opened its gate. Its gate was sprawled with branches and leaves. It creaked , as he opened it. As he stepped in he found a tape recorder blaring music,the entire scene had a sense of peace and life and there were stacks of music cassettes lying besides it. All of those which he had heard since so many days,all of them that he loved so much.

Ahh!! so this was it.
This was the thing, which carried in me all those emotions. It seemed at that time to come straightaway from oblivion, but now its just a tape recorder, lying in a natural room, filled with flowers fragrances, smell of the greenish leaves, and so much of life. Yeah, things have a different meaning when looked at from different positions. But, it was just an another tape recorder and I thought it came from some undefined source for me.He looked around, there was no one in that enclosure. He went ahead and took an another deep look at the tape recorder, it was similar to the one that he had, and so was the table on which it was kept, and the stack of cassettes too were all the same ones that he too had. He took another look at the table , it was same to his own table. He looked around once more; all the things in this enclosure were the same as he had. He was awestruck. How can it be so? He went ahead and opened the drawer of the table, and lo! there was his identity card in there, bearing his name and photo. What is this? How can it be true? He started to panic and breathe heavily. What was happening around him? Was he dreaming? He couldn't come to any conclusion. In a frantic search he scoured all the items in the drawer, and found all his belongings lying in there. The effect of music had started to faint and a fear was rover powering his brain, he cowered with trepidation. He took a look around him and what does he see? The leaves have gone yellow all of a sudden and they are falling from their branches and vanishing. The wall of the enclosure crumbling and getting dissolved in ether, the music had gone awry, he was drenched with fear. He could no longer hear the music, though it still appeared to blare through that tape recorder, which was lying resolutely on that table.

In a frenzy he rushed towards that gate and jumped put of the enclosure.He was cowering with fear, trembling. What had it been? Which place had he come to? He was drenched with fear. Slowly he opened his eyes, and lo! it was the vestibule of his house, where he was standing. Where was he ?He frantically leaped into another room and found his parents lying asleep there. Confused, he looked at his surroundings. There was no garden around, he ran to the porch only to find that the garden was still at that far distance.The wide panorama was still lying there and the afternoon sun shimmered through the sky. Everything was sleepy as it was supposed to be.

What was in my room then? He moved towards it cautiously. The door creaked. The music was still playing on the tape recorder,and everything else was in its place. It was his own room.Was he dreaming? He chuckled at his stupidity ,and took a sigh. After wiping his face off the sweats of fear, he dried himself infront of the fan, sitting on his couch. Sprawled on his couch, he reflected on his reverie. It was a dream!. he laughed at that whole episode. "Ahh!!It was just a stupid dream!!"

He as feeling very relieved now, and he went ahead and put on his favorite music and dropped on the couch. He was enjoying the music now, "such a peace, such a beauty, such a manifestation of soul" he thought;just when he started to to enjoy it , he felt something hard beneath his buttocks. It was the wooden bench, the same which lied in the garden, and had implored him to spend time with him , smiling he raised his and took a look around, it was that same enclosure again , and the same tree standing by the side of bench, smiling, as if saying , "so u learned my secret of life, and came in my shade". He had found the source of sound , only, it was different from different views. Chuckling at this thought, he sank into his couch errr.. bench.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Fantastic ! Wonder if all of us could cross the line of being in the dream world or in the materialistic world.
Very well written dream.

Keep those beautiful thoughts of your coming. :-)