I Move Away

I Move Away
I dream more often than I sleep: I sleep every night, but I dream every single day. Nights are short, but days are always long; days are when I can see my dreams walk and even dance. Though my dreams always last only short while, yet they dictate the direction I move in while I am awake and under a hot sun. I have to bear the scorching heat of the sun for a longer time, but I don’t mind because the days are when my nocturnal adventures come alive. I love to dream, and I love to sleep too.

 I don’t know if I was born this way, but I do know I began to dream once I learnt how to close my eyes voluntarily. I wonder if she appeared in my first dream, but I do know my favourite dream is the one she figures in. she is a bit shy of appearing in my dreams, but when she does, makes them really beautiful. My dreams are lit up with more lumens than the sun lets down on a bright sunny summer day, while there are always more joules of warmth and energy when she is around than when the sun shines. I begin to wonder if paradise is going to be any better than a dream she figures in. My dreams always collapse in the morning or when I open my eyes, and she disappears like she never was with me. I badly wish there was no end to my dreams. I want to   sleep on and on if only to dream of her; but she simply vanishes when I open my eyes.

When I get up in the morning, my bed is drowned by waves created on my bed-sheet reminding me of dreams that made me hop around my bed all night. I wonder if I yell out her name during my nocturnal adventures. I think I do. I wish there was a way to express an iota of the joy I experience when I see her in my dreams; I wish there was a way possible to capture all those emotions in a tangible form. When I get up in the morning, my night-suit is crumpled-up reminding me of her clandestine visits. I wish there was a way to keep sleeping for ages if only to be able to dream of her. There isn’t, I know. I think a proverbial ‘sweet dream’ envelopes all this and more.

I dream of driving a car to my workplace. I see a lot of cars whizzing by while I watch the scene from behind it’s dash-board. It is like time rushing by.  I want don’t want time to rush by as madly as it does because I feel     the time when she is to be with me is only a few aeons away, but I can only watch the show as it enacts itself before me. This is a grim reminder that I shall never be able to do anything positive about anything in life. time will move on at its own typical speed, and I shall never be able to run faster than time.

In another     dream, I see myself holding hands with her. there is nothing else around us, except silence and a lot of silence. It is perforated by some melodious tunes she hums. my company pushes her to a   fresh zenith just as her company effects a similar magic on me. I find it quite surprising, but it is only our company that pushes us to a fresh height every moment we are together. We discover a new definition of paradise in every aeon of time as it passes by. A whole lot of definitions are to be discovered, and a whole lot of time is to pass by.

The mornings that are here after these dreams are quite distressful. I don’t want to wake up. I badly wish there was a way possible to push my sleep aboard a train headed for nowhere. I want to dream endlessly about her. I badly want to get away from a day when I can’t dream of her. she is the elixir of my life, she brings the magic of life to life within me while I dream of her. life without her begins in a senseless void and ends in a void too.  I look out of my window every now and then for a glimpse of a dream which is a beautiful contrast to what life shows me.

The window-seat is my most-preferred seat in a car. I get a chance to see life rushing by so closely as if it were driven by a rocket-propeller.  I see a lot of dreams whizz by without knocking on my door everyday. Of all these, my favourite dreams are the ones she figures in. Some of them shall certainly be back in one form or the other. One of them might be a fleeting thought rushing home after a late dinner, while another might enter my heart one day through my eyes, while yet another might find itself before my eyes while I sleep. I can’t do anything except watch silently as my dreams passes by me. I can only make way for them to move on smoothly. I do move away.

My worst dream is the one where I see her sitting on a bench with her back to me. she appears to be in deep conversation with someone else.  I can’t see him; I   can only hear his voice. I feel jealous of him. There is competition around, I know, but some giggles and laughs, assure me she is happier with him. She has certainly been a chandelier hanging from a ceiling and lighting up the entire dark and musty room I am.

I badly wish she would step into my dark and miserable world and light it with some of her brightness one day, but I quietly move away.