Sunday, July 23, 2006

A midsummer night’s dream

“Dreams are not comparable to the spontaneous sounds made by a musical instrument struck rather by some external force than by the hand of a performer; they are not meaningless but often illogical. They never follow a sequence of time. The speed of dream is unbelievable that you travel time and places in a flick “– Sigmund Freud.

It was a welcome precipitation that night, coolest of the summer, after a long episode of hot glare sunny days.

She winks like a butterfly flapping its wings. The two butterflies were mating against a green serene background with dew dripping around here and there. They sag as the cool breeze sweeps. A placid piece of hail drops from nowhere, shattering into pieces. Butterflies shrugged by the quake, flies apart as the female flaps into the greenery. The estranged male flaps into the room hysterically and ….Oh! God. It shatters between the blades of the ceiling fan with the color of its glittering wings shower like sparkling meteors in the galaxy.

The spin of the galaxy is so rhythmic and it starts unwinding into the dark universe leaving behind twinkling stars in an almost dark placid sky. The ceiling in that mall twinkles with the artificial sky as I am on the stage for a game show. The host asks me an irrefutable question for which my answer was so spontaneous that left the crowd surprising. She seems surprised with me answering the question and applauds with a smile. Her face is so animated that is almost looks like a Mickey Mouse.

The Mickey Mouse video is so humorous and Surya likes it so much. He asks me to play “Finding Nemo”. Nemo’s dad swims across the East Australian current and reaches Sydney. “The Opera house is an architectural marvel, but it has its own flaws. It never fulfilled the purpose it was built for”. It was absurd to hear it from Mr.Ragavan Nambhiyar, Architecture professor. His hair sways like a pony’s tail. He has more hair than Tina has. Tina’s voice is tomboyyish but commanding. It’s like that of Tom Sawyer’s of “Adventures of Huckleberry Finn”. Our English teacher asks me to recite a chapter of the book, which I haven’t memorized. I am waiting for the school bell to ring.

Ting Ting Ting Ting Ting Ting Ting Ting Ting

I’m going home.

Ting Ting Ting Ting Ting Ting Ting Ting Ting

It sounds so real. It’s the alarm. “Someone, stop it”.

4:00 am

Snoozed.

I’ll sleep 10 more minutes before I go to the karate class. It is so cool. The atmosphere in my school is always cool. The peacocks come around us, while we are having lunch in the playground, to eat the left over. I feed a peacock and it pecks my hand. I put my hand in the cool water of the small stream that runs behind the compound of the school. Principal doesn’t believe when we say about the footprints of a cheetah, which we saw while playing along the bank of the stream. He pushes the call bell to call the attendee.

Ting Ting Ting Ting Ting Ting Ting Ting Ting.

4:10am.

It’s ok 10 more minutes.

Snoozed.

The Airtel tune for the alarm is so nice but it is the most irritating music now. A.R.Rehman’s music is always daunting. J.P’s songs are groovy that every one in the dojo enjoys it so much. I need to buy a guitar.
“Thode Lamhe…”

Ting Ting Ting Ting Ting Ting Ting Ting Ting

4:20am.

No, I am not going to the class today. It’s so cold outside and is drizzling. I love the warmth of the bed.
Hmmmm… The pillow is so soft and it smells so good. Uck! I wish it smells so good. It smells like a rose. The roses with raindrops in it are so haunting. Kavi and I are walking along a long avenue of trees after the rain. The sight is so clear as the rain have washed away the dust in the air. The trees are still dripping. Suddenly she pulls a twig of a tree and showers me with a very special rain that the tree has saved for us. She laughs, as I am fully soaked. She runs as I chase. Her anklets compose a symphony.

Ting Ting Ting Ting Ting Ting Ting Ting Ting

4:30am.

Oh! Not again. No snooze I’m gonna Switch off the alarm.

I am not going to the class today. Anyway, I missed my trip to Okinawa. Nothing’s gonna change if I miss a single class. It feels more comfortable and pleasing to sleep in the cool morning on a warm mattress. Nothing will equal the sense of cuddling in the bed half asleep. Hmmm… wow! It’s so nice, the warmth. If only I have someone to hug now….

Ting Ting

No!

1 text message received

“Shihan”

Opening…

“Hoiz guys. Classes as usual, in spite of thunder, lightning and rain for aspiring students. Are you on and up? Hoiz.”





It was another great session of karate and chattering that day.

Why I joined Karate..

I had been a neurotic all my life, dreaming about things that are impossible to happen. Well! Almost. It happened to be one such dream, being a Karate Ka.

I derived inspirations from whatever I saw, what I ever got to know. A movie, a cricket match, an architecturally mastered building, a story, a painting, be it anything, I lived a life where I was the hero. I would be a guy who bashes up 100 thugs in a row or a player who hits six in each ball faced. I, designed the greatest building ever built, directed super hit movies, wrote stories that laurels Pulitzer, drew a portrait as real as a photograph, edited a movie I saw, lived a billionaire and it went on and on and on. I related myself to everything around that deserves attention. After all I could be a hero only in my life and always knew that I could only be a supporting actor in others life, most of the time, a comedy role. I found those things would never happen but hated to discover reality, when such was the happiness in dreaming.

I realised at times that my dreams were overtaking my life. But it was less adequate, the realization. The nuances of inadequacy seemed so unpredictable, as I was so obsessed with those dreams.

Was it coz I’m alone?

I started feeling lonely as I started realizing. I was forced to be lonely. It was not my fault for not having friends now, as I always had a celebrating group of friends.

I fed the grudge to give me comfort. It started taming me. I was cuddled in its comfort, as it taught me all evils, worst of all, self-sympathy. I began hating people.

Physically, I was living in a concrete jungle. The rest of the world was so mystical; I hardly stole time to intrude through the other side. It was a fairy tale, with lights glittering, bikes vrooming, angels walking along the lanes, and all. Any sound other than that of diesel gensets, concrete pumps, breakers, drillers, hammers was music to me.

Gimme a break!

Get me outta here. I was waiting like a gazelle in a lions hold, making valiant attempts to free myself.

Until one day.

“THINK KARATE. THINK SHIHAN HUSSAINI. NO FURTHER.”

The grudge announced that it’s just another graffiti. Let me try one last time before quitting.

“Am I speaking to Shihan Hussaini?”

“Yes sir”

I was in.



Now I have a home away from home.