The awakened dream of a sleeping memory

The Dream

A murky day. The sky is painted in shades of gray. I sniffed a whiff of moist soil. The dry red brick walls dampened soaking up the secret droplets in the wet breeze. The smooth red-oxide floor began giving me goosebumps. I ran out the door, off the lawn, and launched on the rusty iron gate. The feeble slanting gate gasped and shrieked as I swung, torquing mercilessly with one foot on the ground. The trees turned darker and the road grew eerie. I stared far down the dusty narrow road looking for its usual blind spot but could see no more than a hundred meters. The first house I can spot is also the only one. Plop! One raindrop on my forehead. So exciting! My earlobes tapered anticipating my mother's call. Nope! No call! Relaxed, I continued swinging. Tring-Tring! The sound of a distant bell! It is the paper guy in the morning and the fish guy at noon. This is neither! My curiosity sprinted off the gate, onto the road. So empty and quiet! The little hairs on the nape of my neck stood up cold and scared, ready to run back home. I didn't see any figure except the one I was imagining behind the black curtains of slowly falling darkness. Back to the gate. Oh! Someone is coming! The long strides of a tall man shortened and stopped. He lowered his head and smiled. A weird smile! I have seen different smiles. People are usually warm and playful when they see me. This felt uneasy. There were no words! The silence became intense. The trees froze! My fazed eyes were clouded by his big face. It all happened in seconds! There is now a gold chain in his hands. It is mine! It was around my neck! When did he?? He walked away, the long strides still paced the same. Who is he?? 

I woke up from the dream utterly confused. I closed my eyes and summoned the dream again. A young man in his mid-twenties, maybe. I tried to zoom in on his face, but dreams have poor resolution. As a kid, I was infamous for screaming at random people walking on the street. So, the only question I was left with -- "Why didn't I scream?? Did I know him??". Well, this was just a dream.

Three months passed. There had been many thefts in our colony. The distraught neighborhood gathered up to discuss. One of the anxious faces was my mom's. A few nights ago, the lights went out in the entire colony. Bone-tired of their flesh melting in the oven-hot bedrooms, people poured out on the streets. After two or three hours, the mass grew weary of their own chitter-chatter and headed back. Most slept in their living rooms. I was flat-out on the couch. All windows were fully open for survival. I woke up the next morning missing my gold chain. Soon, my parents and neighbors started speculating how and where I lost it. We searched the streets in vain. Finally, my parents presumed a vivid image of the thief slithering his hands through the gaps in the grills of the open window, reaching me on the couch and cutting the chain using his specialized crescent-shaped sharp weapon attached to a long sturdy stick. A truly believable story! Now, I can forget about the chain and move on with my life. A few more such mishaps and the fear of the residents arose as a night guard in the colony. One night, I was curled up in the corner of the couch watching TV with my parents. We saw the guard on his regular rounds, through the window. My parents started reminiscing about an old memory, a gold chain I lost as a kid. I horned my ears for the details. They said I was two years old and we lived in a small town, a place that slept sound too quiet, even during the day. I decided to investigate further. I lobbed them with questions about the home we lived in, the gate, the road, the vibe of the neighborhood; every answer scored a perfect tick. Therefore, I concluded -- "The dream was a memory. The man was real. The theft did happen!". 

Altered Dream

Four months passed. An unexpected guest joined us for Sunday lunch. They came from somewhere far, a couple, their cheeks drooping and skin tanned, almost burnt in the scorching summer heat. The lady looked at me, her wrinkled eyes shining with a nostalgic smile. I didn't recognize her. I went out to play with my friends. Later, I saw the invitation card they had left on the living room coffee table. It is their daughter's wedding. They traveled this far to invite us personally? I was impressed! Theirs is a generation that gauges every gesture carefully. A letter sent by post means 'just informing you', a call means 'do come if you can make it' and a personal visit means 'you are too important to miss'. My parents told me that they used to be our neighbors when I was little. It must be that small town, I guessed. The wedding is in two weeks. I had no doting childhood memories of that place. Still, I was impatient to match it with my dream. 

Two weeks passed. We set off for the wedding. An overnight 12-hour journey by train. A car was arranged by the bride's party to pick us up at the station. We freshened up in the hotel room booked for us, had a swift breakfast, and hurried to the venue. The ceremony will take place in an hour or so. We roamed inside the big wedding hall, my parents exchanging the unvaried gladness of meeting old neighbors after so long. So ridiculously boring! Not a soul I knew. Wistful I wondered why I tagged along. The exhaustingly excited bride's parents came to welcome us. The lady glimmered in her new bottle-green silk saree and her old nostalgic smile. This time I smiled back. At once, something churned in my mind. That lady looked more familiar than the last time I saw her! The more I stared, the more uneasy I felt. Like the click of a camera, I shuttered into my dream and the face of the man flashed inside my eyes. Definitely a man! Maybe I am desperately making this a thrilling scenario. Maybe I am weaving my imagination over my dream. Maybe I just want a mysterious story to tell! My conscientious therapist was straightening me out when I saw a group of kids running towards the stage where the ceremony was about to happen. A bearded man was instructing them to stand in a neat row. Hidden behind that long row of flower girls and surrounded by equally enthusiastic photographers, was the timid bride. In every glimpse I caught, I admired the beauty of her hairstyle, her embroidered saree studded with pearls, her diamond jewelry, and then, I heard the tring-tring of a distant bell! The bell alarmed my dreams! He took out the phone from his pocket and answered, the bearded man. A ringtone?? I was amused. He walked towards the first kid in the row, lowered his head, and held up the basket slipping off the grip of her teensy fingers. The little one looked up at his face. He smiled. Oh my! That smile?? Buried in his thick beard, the same weird smile!! The little hairs in the nape of my neck stood up startled, my thin eyebrows crinkled puzzled. The ceremony began. The bearded man was standing close to the bride's mother. I whispered in my mother's ears, "Who is that man?". My mother replied in a totally amazed tone, "You remember him? He is the bride's uncle. He adored you as a kid. He would carry you to the market and show you around, you used to love that". I watched the resemblance between the lady and the bearded man and noted -- "So, the nostalgic smile and the weird smile are siblings. No wonder! ". However, the question remained -- "Did he take that gold chain or is my dream all messed up?". Meanwhile, I forgot that my eyes were fixed on the bearded man. He saw me and walked towards us, his long strides still paced the same. I reset my facial settings to normal. The man affectionately greeted my parents. Then he gently looked at me and said, "You were too little to remember me". While I blinked and grinned, my shrewd alter ego strategically placed my fingers on the gold chain around my neck and slightly pulled it forward. Suddenly, his expression changed! His smile vanished! It lasted only for a split-second, his perplexed bloodless face. He composed himself in a flick, politely invited us to have lunch, and walked away, his strides no longer long, his pace much slowed down. After he left, my father passed a casual comment, "Back then their family had some financial struggles, but he revived his father's business and is doing really well now". I demanded that we go for a brief visit to our old home. I was eager to overlap the place I saw in my dream with the real one. But we had a train to catch. So, we left soon after lunch. In the soft rocking of the train, the travelers slept fast like babies in a giant cradle. And I saw the dream again. Only this time, where the man should, stood a lady with a weird smile!