"I believe in my dreams, in their beauty, in their
clarity." said him, one of my good
friends from college.
We were engaged in a thorough conversations regarding
dreams that I was having for the past few weeks, dreams which were futile,
awkward and hopeless. I remember at some point in my dreams I was rebuking
myself for having them. I was guilty as hell. I really needed to tell someone
and so I did. To him.
(The thing is I know the futility of the dreams, I know
dreams are comfort drinks in times of trouble, I know they are rays of hope in
bleak dark days, but in the end, they are just dreams. Something that
originates in the subconscious and ends there. PERIOD.)
Hence when he said what he said, I laughed it off. He further
persisted saying
"I know understanding my theory regarding dreams is
impossible to you, somehow, they are impossible to me too. But in 50, 60 years
when I am dead, you know where I will live? I will live in my dreams. I don't
know if there is heaven or hell, but I know there are dreams and in dreams I
will dwell."
I was taken aback. There was something, some kind of
uncanny beauty, in his words which made me think. I got of the phone and
thought, so many thoughts were going through my head. What really pulled me
into was the thought of living in your dreams after death. I have often thought
about death, I remember there was a time when I had time long discussions with
my Bengali teacher regarding death. My idea about death has changed from time
to time, sometimes death was a timeless peaceful sleep, sometimes death was the
continuation of life somewhere else, sometimes death was freedom. But I never
associated death with dreams. His words
knocked me somewhere, to the point that I took out my ipad and sat down to
write this post.
What do you think?
Is death a peaceful sleep in your land of dreams?
