Flashback

Glances bartered along roadsides..

Looking back-a bleeding bonafide;

Rendezvous, reasons,

Solitude, seasons….

Enchanted elegance..

Demeaning distance…

Trailing the time that was gone…

They glanced back…. And walked on.

Jet lag

What could be the best way to define the distance between spouses? The miles between the two cities in two different countries they are living in? The hours between the two time zones? The empty spaces between them? Or the silence.. the inaccessibility?

 Physics defines distance as length or space between two points.. Graphically it is represented by subtracting the coordinated of the two given points. Perhaps between people too, something gets subtracted from each other. Something goes missing. Which takes us back to the first set of questions! As to what the possible remainder is!

Graphically distances between points are often measured by joining them by straight lines. Connection. Strings. From heart to heart.

Distance. A wider angle of view. Brings to your notice what wasn’t accessible to you when you stood right in front of your point of reference. In this case, your spouse. From harsh realities to sweet truths, they get to explore each other. They say :

“One sees qualities at a distance and defects at close range”.

 There may be possibilities of a few bitter discoveries. Nevertheless, the frog prince in the fairy tale wouldn't have been as enchanting without vivid descriptions of the pond, the garden, the castle, or the princess herself.

A concept of motion always goes hand in hand with distance. Moving a day away from the day she last met him. Moving a day closer to the day he would see her again! A journey to cover up for the miles, hours and void…..

The basic aspects cannot be ruled out either. Missing each other… Anticipating.. Waiting… And building bridges to find shortcuts to each other..

In my case:

The shortest distance between us is under construction. Reconstruction.

Dream life, Live dreams!

Dream. A subconscious state of mind. By definition it is an occurrence of involuntary succession of images and sensations when one is asleep.  It is that part of your sleep that gives you a sense of being awake. Ordinary, surreal or bizarre, it makes people feel alive.

Dreams don’t happen to us. We realize it. We realize what is it that we haven’t thought of. Rather, what our conscious self hasn’t thought of.  Dream is like the “Mirror of Erised” as shown in the Harry Potter series.

“Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi”

Read backwards it means: I show not your face but your heart’s desire. A similar interpretation of dreams was put forward by Sigmund Freud in his word The Interpretation of Dreams. According to him, we have a tendency to hold back our urges and impulses. And these suppressed feeling find their ways out in different forms, one of which is dreams.

True, that it’s an illusion. But isn’t it beautiful?! To find yourself in Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, or in Willi Wonka’s chocolate factory with Charlie? It’s great to be wandering along with Alice in her wonderland! And it’s as wonderful to dance with your “dream” love. And as awesome to see yourself as Bill Gates’ boss! It could grow wilder than that! Well how about the question paper for tomorrow’s exam?

Not that they don’t baffle us with what we call nightmares! Yet, dreams, lucid or vague, are beautiful. And waking up, even better. Their naïve reminiscence of the dreamer may animate or agitate him. Or give rise to a whole new creative process.

We “create” dreams. And we can make them real with the same creativity.  Not that we would always end up discovering the same species of the rare pink bird with crimson lips and blue-purple-green-yellow wings we dreamt of; we may, instead someday be a renowned artist for painting the same bird seated in its golden nest- paint our dreams!


“The years that are gone seem like dreams—if one might go on sleeping and dreaming—but to wake up and find—oh! well! Perhaps it is better to wake up after all, even to suffer, rather than to remain a dupe to illusions all one’s life.”
                                                                           -Kate Chopin ( The Awakening)