A Dream that meant Nothing

Nevertheless, it was just a dream. A dream seen at dawn is supposed to come true. I can't really think how much truth lies in it; I don't want to think.

I think it was her, a vague glimpse. I knew she was hurrying off to the metro station. Unknowingly, undecided, enchanted I chased down, almost without any reason. I was still not sure that I had seen her, but I briskly walked towards the station, as if searching for something unknown. I wasn't really expecting anything or anybody, as a surge of unreasonable desire rushed me through a sea of unseen strangers, which looked like inanimate objects moving with time, like snails in slow motion.

And suddenly, she was standing in front of me, on a slightly elevated platform. Perhaps, she was waiting for me. But why? She looked so different; like a new face, a different person. I almost couldn't recognize her, as my eyebrows pretended to frown. The smile was hiding, or perhaps it wasn't there at all. She looked more beautiful; or more attractive, more appealing than ever before. Her hair cut short, straightened from the bowl of her head. Her face was whiter than milk. The eyes looked pretty with artificial liners, and her lips were as bright and luscious as the pink rose. I couldn't deny that her restored beauty, though unnatural and unexpected, was not unwelcoming. She was dressed in ivory black, much like the corporate ladies I had started liking recently. She stood almost like an object of oozing desire I had longed for in dreams not too old. My aroused feelings made me feel numb, but I remember, she spoke nothing; nothing that comes to my mind. Maybe, I wasn't prepared to listen at all.

I found ourselves in a dingy corridor, square in geometry, leading to many a haphazard rooms. It was evident that the owner had tried very hard to maintain a tidy ambience in the hotel, hoping to be liked by us. I can't say whether I liked it or not. I didn't have time to think. She led me to a room containing nothing but an orphaned bed, lying in the centre. I think it looked like wrought iron, as the lonely room reminded me of our long afternoons together in her bed back home. We were already tumbling over, clinging on to each other, with nothing but a thin flowery bed sheet wrapped by chance around our naked bodies; the moments were sensitive. Sweet smiles exchanged for nothing; and the deep dive in each other's eyes for endless time; and the wiggle down my spine when she pressed her knees against my chest, shivering in sweet ecstasy. All seemed so pretty, as I stood with blind eyes and deaf ears, lost in my happier moments, my past unforgotten. Now, I didn't care. I didn't even care whether she noticed my blank eyes indulged in better memories of us. I still don't know why I had chased her, or why she was waiting for me, and for what reason she had brought me to the hotel, or what was going to happen next. All questions remain unanswered, still. I saw a door leading to an attached bath, and another door, perhaps leading to another room, and then to another. The imagery almost created a jigsaw puzzle in my head; and a glass showcase, made like a wall separated the room from the corridor, with net curtains on the inside and darker ones outside.

Inane things happened after that, like a histrionic circus of foolish things. I was kicking on a checkered ball on the roof. Hazy faces of known friends seemed to accompany me in silly amusement. Strangely, our hands and feet were tied in thick ropes. My lady sat in a distant corner like a mute spectator with few others of her same gender, some known, some unknown. We struggled on the ball with desperate legs stuck in a knot, while the rain drizzled incessant. I glimpsed at her eyes and thought, she would offer me an oil massage afterwards; like she did when I lay on her bed, with nothing but my bare flesh and the sweet aroma of rich oil. And paradise would come nearer; and I would offer her the same in return; and perhaps, the happier times will be back again, just for an hour, or a little more.

The owner sitting on a dark purple sofa in the corridor called me to pay the bill as I descended down the stairway with no one in front, or behind me. The amount was probably rupees three hundred. Maybe the others are resting in the room, I thought.

I stood lonely, in the deserted room, with a thin tube light to accompany me. Perhaps, she would come in a minute, I hoped. Ice drops of cold water trickled down my wet hair to my neck, then slowly climbed down my bare chest as I waited, almost for a lifetime. I was wearing a new pair of cream cargos which I didn't recognize, and perhaps the blue jeans was lost in the rain on the roof. But she never came. Perhaps, everything that I was waiting for had already happened, and I don't remember. Or perhaps, she was busy with somebody else in some other room. Or perhaps, she had left already. Or maybe, it wasn't her at all.

I don't remember whether I paid the bill or not. But I left with my hair uncombed, like a sparrow's nest. I still don't know what had happened, why it happened. I can't find reasons reasonable enough. Abstract weirdness clouded my mind like lost souls in a rain forest. But maybe it was the last time I saw my girl, in my dreams, or in reality.

Nevertheless, it was just a dream. A dream seen at dawn is supposed to come true. I can't really think how much truth lies in it; but it seemed without a reason, it was a dream that meant nothing.