Dreams

I dreamt the other day that while climbing up a mountain I had a great fall but miraculously there was no injury. Despite the fall, I tried several times to climb up again but all such attempts resulted in repeated falls. It reminded me of Sisyphus and his unenviable efforts to carry the boulder up only to see it rolling down. Did I I become as deceitful as Sisyphus to earn such a dream? I contemplated the matter over and over again. It is true that while in service I had rarely shown my salary slip to my wife because of the apprehension of a long lecture on budgeting and consequential misunderstanding. I imagine most of the husbands would be accused of developing a liking for such innocent habit which would hardly merit as deception. I am inclined to believe that the practice is consistent with  righteous living without incurring the wrath of Dharma Deva. If that be the case how come I got singled out to be consigned to that frustrating dream! The built up emotion was so much that I shouted, ‘Injustice, injustice’ which startled my wife in the middle of her sweet dream and she woke up screaming, ‘why are you howling at this hour?’ Alas there is no business school for wife-management! Having started the day with an ominous presentiment, I became cautious of my movements and thought of postponing the day’s work to the next day. Electric bill, phone bills, medicine bill etc. got shelved. When my wife brought breakfast I was completely mesmerized in the postponement mode and without hearing her words shouted back, ‘not today, tomorrow’. She was bewildered for a few seconds but pushed the tray in to my hand in her inimitable style yelling ‘be sane at times if not always’. The sound rather than the thrust brought me back in to reality and the haze around my vision started melting.

Why do people dream? I was very curious, like most people to find meaning in dreams. In my adolescence I heard numerous theories relating to dreams. Some said unfulfilled desires find expression in dreams while some others say it foretells future happenings and very often than not it portends bleak situations ahead. But what appealed me most was the theory that if one dreams of luxurious living, royal grandeur and befitting treatment he would certainly end up as a king. I remember having invented many such dreams during my teenage with make belief stories to impress my friends and relatives who were gullible enough to believe those to be true. What I ultimately became-whether twice removed from reality or more than that is another story. Again I do not know whether my other friends were as inventive as I was then but I find most boys tell lies at that age. Of course I cannot say if it is equally true to girls too. In the early years in the college I searched the bookshelf in the reading room and found ‘The Interpretation of Dreams’ by Sigmund Freud.  Although I devoted four, five sessions to have an overview yet the half-an-hour recess was woefully inadequate to satiate my queries. The reference to disguised fulfillment of repressed desires, sex symbols, genitals, unconscious, subconscious etc. etc. did not register well in my young mind at that time simply because it did not provide an easy solution to interpret a dream. The psychoanalysis of dreams, the Oedipus complex and the Electra complex posed to be inscrutable theories alien to a science student.  

I had to back out from the mission half way. The rendezvous with interpretation having ended prematurely in the past, I thought of reviving it by further study on the subject but the task appeared as intimidating as then         because of various interpretations. One theory suggests that dreams are subjective interpretation of signals generated by the brain during sleep. Another theory suggests that dreams clean up the clutter from the mind to refresh for new ventures. It is also stated that dreams mainly occur in rapid eye movement (REM) stage of sleep-when brain activity is high and resembles that of being awake. All those materials and many others made me dreamless for about a fortnight that scripted my abandonment for the second time. I have to find someone who could interpret my recent Sisyphean experience.  

Of course day dreaming is different and quite pleasant. Essentially it is like enjoying the unachievable. Some years back a friend said he enjoyed day dreaming of winning a lottery of ten million because such thought brought meaning to his existence. He knew all along that it was only his imagination but the mirage is much more attractive than the green meadows. He used to purchase lottery tickets to keep his mind green and fresh.

It is true that we must have dreams to propel us forward in a positive way and to give sustenance to our existence. While harbouring a dream we also draw up a road map to ensure that it does not frizzle out as a day dream.

Post-retirement thoughts

Superannuation is a part of one’s service career and although everyone knows it would come ultimately yet very often than not people remain unprepared. Besides, the situation from hyper activity to relative inactivity is a depressing feeling defying comprehension. It is not that easy especially when it comes so suddenly. The other day one of my friends was very nostalgic about the years spent in service and he rued rather sadly that the mobile phone which had been a singing toy has lost its lustre by ringing occasionally, showing signs of exhaustion. I have a different experience altogether simply because I had been preparing myself for about a year or so to face the event. It would be a travesty of truth to say that I immunized myself from the paroxysms of separation. In fact I did feel the convulsions of missing my colleagues, my institution and above all the surrounding that I called my own. I was never crazy about authority and there was absolutely no problem when I lost it. Many persons suffer terribly when the baton of authority disappears but I had no such hallucination and I knew the brittleness of official power which evaporates the moment one demitted office. I had other plans after retirement. Writing was my passion during my young days but I was guilty of overstretching myself to the extent of spoiling my career for which I had no option but to distance myself from creative writing for a pretty long period. Even during service career I could not find quality time and concentration to revive my skill. Superannuation provided both and surprisingly, I got support from the domestic front too. My wife never believed that I could write short stories and unfortunately I didn't get new arrows in my repertoire to dispute her persuasion. So, just after my marriage when my relatives and friends talked of my writings and the laurels it brought along-she used to consider the narration as an extension of the enticement to lure her to an unworthy suitor. Pending opinion on disputed virtues, I had to look surreptitiously at the mirror a dozen times to ensure that my looks didn't suffer from any such ignominy. A true narcissist in the making perhaps, one may imagine. Now I am rather skeptical and doubtful if she changed her opinion (all great people never) but I find she has been tolerant over my indulgence and is less quarrelsome. That is some consolation indeed!

Mercury continues to soar declaring the advent of summer with all its attributes. In many cities energy outage in summer has become a recurring phenomenon and our city is no exception. I spent my childhood days in my village and summer was not at all agonizing then as we feel now in cities. We had a tall thatched house with wooden ceiling which kept the inward temperature comfortable both in summer and winter as well. Wooden plank ceiling was a middle class luxury then-which prevented vagaries of temperature to play down upon. Apart from that the forest cover, surrounding the village was a natural insulation. Electricity came to our village in mid-sixties when I was reading in High School. The lantern or the incandescent lamp was the source of light in the evening and admittedly it was a poor substitute for electric bulb but still life was not bad enough. Our progeny would never comprehend a decent living without electricity but they still enjoy their visits to reserve forest area and short stay in cottages or rest sheds in the reserve forest even without electricity. The reason is obvious-natural flora and fauna have tremendous charms of their own. The cool breeze, the music of the flowing stream, the bird songs of the jungle fowls in the morning and the sounds of the wild animals in the late evening are simply unique and beyond replication. In spite of our best efforts in implementing schemes for afforestation and the like, honestly we cannot recreate the scene and bring back the deep forest and the natural vegetation which grew of their own.

Post retirement I marked many changes in the surrounding. The road adjacent to our house transformed in to booby-trap than a road, the leaves of the trees have dried down, the sky has been constantly changing and by theory of relativity I ought to have changed. Surprisingly I remained unchanged or so it appeared. I looked at the mirror for the nth time but the figure didn't show any dramatic change. I asked my wife if it was not a bad omen. She stared at my eyes for a full minute and shouted-‘you have gone terribly insane’. The full meaning of her words dawned on me after a minute. I had an impression that after one year of retirement the spouse becomes irritated because of the constant presence of the husband in the house and bickering starts phase-wise; first disagreement, then minor disputes and finally scandalous scolding. But I have not completed six months of retirement and certainly her shouting didn't fit any of these. Suddenly my wife appeared from the kitchen with two cups of cold coffee and offering her sweetest smile said, ‘sip the coffee slowly and relax. It is summer and don’t think too much to find meaning in everything’. That left me at square one. I remember Bhagabat Gita and the advice of Lord Krisna-‘Karmanye vadhikaraste ma phaleshu kadachana’- You have the right to perform your actions but you are not entitled to the fruits of actions. But what is my action right now? Is it to hear the choicest invective from your better-half? I must find out.

   

Thoughts of April

The cuckoos have started singing but in contrast mercury soars abruptly recording forty degree Celsius.  With cuckoos singing how come it is not spring though early April is not summer either.

APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.   (T.S.Eliot)

 So April has arrived with all fool’s day. While going for a walk at five thirty in the morning we have glimpses of the missing spring with cool breeze, dew drops here and there but only fleetingly. True, it mixes memory and desire but spring rain is conspicuous in its absence. Dull roots continue to remain dull without stirring. It is time we redefined seasons because the traditional clubbing of months has lost its sheen or so it seems. It is not uncommon to see young men losing their temper by drop of a hat. Is it because of these unthinkable changes? I would refrain from answering and leave it to the wise to answer but I have a confused idea that anger survives of its own without being influenced by climate or otherwise. While thinking of anger it occurs to me that I can also be accused of irrational temper during my young days. That again has no reference to the angry young man but my only worry is nobody told me- it is no greatness to lose your temper. If someone cajoles me I am willing to confess- vulnerability to anger has been my constant forte. I am sure I would get numerous testimonials to this indiscretion. I am not sure that I would ‘Look Back in Anger’. John Osborne would have been a great source to explore it. I would have gone on length to describe my various encounters but I heard my inner voice-no one talks of weaknesses in public. Oh yes, ‘Everyone is a moon and has a dark side which he never shows to anyone’. I would leave it at that. That reminds me of a story. One of my friends was a good story writer and once he requested another friend to make a fair copy of the rough one of his story. At the climax of the story the protagonist became emotional and confided before the heroine ‘I silently love you beyond words…’ Instead of three dots the fair copy writer had made half page dots in the manuscript. That irritated the writer and when he angrily demanded an explanation, the fair copy writer innocently said, ‘Look mate, love is a serious matter and what transpired between the hero and the heroine cannot be confined in three dots. Probably you have never loved. It needs a lot of space you know’.    

Space is something that defies description. In a family everyone needs private space to become individualistic. Sometimes I wonder if joint family was not a magic formula to merge private spaces and aspire for collective space instead. But then agrarian economy was the bond that cultivated such system. The idea is repulsive now as most people will be suffocated in the collective space. Why do I need space? Do I need it to nurture my arrogance, my ego or to live a life of righteousness-in my own way-with dignified disposition least affecting others? All the three possibilities are familiar to me because I have experimented all of it at different times knowingly or unknowingly. Then the question comes, are those satisfying? I would leave it at that.

To my mind, satisfaction is a rare feeling that comes and leaves simultaneously. Very rarely one is satisfied and when it comes it stays only for a short period. I came to such a negative point of view on my research on the topic based on the questions I have asked my friends on numerous occasions-‘Are you satisfied with your job/assignment/love life/salary/career prospect/working conditions/boss/posting etc. etc.?’ The answer is invariably negative.  The magic potion-I advised my wife-is to remain content with what she gets. In that case, why we don’t go to Himalayas then-my better-half demanded. But dear, I may venture to cover the distance but you cannot because of the condition of your legs -I replied.  Wearing her newly purchased sports shoes she challenged, ‘let us walk for a while to find out’. In many countries people tack paper fish on each other’s back as a trick and shout ‘April fish’ on April fool’s day.  I do not know what kind of prank my wife wants to play on fourth April instead of first April.