Bookmark #430

I woke up at eight and decided to sleep more since it was raining outside. I drew the curtain open to see the drops fall until I dozed off again. When I woke up, it was still raining. There is peace in days like this, when the morning hour never turns to afternoon, when it feels like it is eight in the morning even when it is, in fact, much later in the day. Perhaps, that is all we want, for the world to be an eternal fresh start, a never-ending morning. It is when days end when we sit and think about how we fared, that we stop to ponder over an unnecessary cross word three years ago or how an argument could have been avoided today. To be rocked softly in the cradle of the morning, lost halfway in grogginess and comfort is what people wanted. It is why we loved days when it began raining before we woke up and kept raining till we slept.

In the few hours I stole from the day ahead, which would inevitably turn it into a scrambling nightmare, I dreamt about many people I had not remembered for a while. It was comforting to not only see them but talk to them, to laugh with them. It baffles me how we know so much about the skies above, a little less about the oceans below, but nothing significant about this realm inside our heads. I do not mean to learn about dreams in some mystical babbling, which amounts to nothing but some things people say to each other. There is little difference between that and how an academic or a critic interprets writing. Nobody but the writer knows what the words mean, and no one but a dreamer can explain, if at all, what the dreams suggest.

And so, when I woke up, I did it with a hapless curiosity. I imagined a world where we understand the chemistry of dreams like we understand the chemistry of table salt, and comprehend the biology of dreams like we comprehend the biology of how wounds heal, and know the physics of dreams like we know the atom. All that is to say, a world where it is common knowledge and almost indisputable. Until then, our dreams were only a place to escape into, which, now that I think of it, is not half bad a bargain. Sometimes, that is all we need: a meaningless solution to reality, the root of all our problems.

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