I dream of a .......................

OK that whole conversation and the very in depth talks about Mumbai screwed up my sub-conscious mind or my un-conscious mind very badly.

Talking away about such a lovely topic at insane hours in the night can give you very weird dreams. Even when you are not prone to the idea of having such weird dreams.

Thankfully I have now been introduced to the phenomenon of I-dream-about-what-I-think-about-deeply-before-going-to-sleep!!! (This kind of syndrome does exist. I say so. So it exists. Also coz I have experienced it very often lately.)

So here is what happened……………I happily dream about a day when I would get to meet Mr. Suketu Mehta the writer of my current fav book Maximum City. The meeting gets scheduled in his house.

So here I am all set to meet him; all armed with his address and everything I go to meet him. But there is a bit of a problem…

I am supposed to meet him in the day and when I am outside his house its pitch dark!!!!!! DAMN!!!! I couldn’t understand what was going on!

(All this thinking business about the prevalence of darkness in daytime, why would it happen in Mumbai, this phenomenon happens only in places like Scotland, Antarctica, etc. had already started in my head which was in a very deep state of a dream.)

Neways, I still enter this apartment which was unfortunately a very New York like place!! To be precise, try and remember the streets that Ally Mcbeal walked when she was alone and the houses that could be seen in the background?? That’s what I am talking about. Houses, which had a basement, a ground floor which was accessible only if you climb a series of steps and a first floor.

So after scrutinizing the house I climb the step to go to the ground floor of the house. Knock the door. Forgot who opened it and allowed me in. But I remember that I had ended up in the basement!!! (How did that happen, I cant figure out.)

The room was cramped. It had furniture of all wrong dimensions as compared to the room size. Hence navigating through the room was a problem. Your legs always ended up hitting something or the other! This room also had a beautifully carved teakwood bracket on either sides of a pseudo window. Unfortunately there was too much of dust lodged in the carving and cobwebs had a gala time making various patterns of web over it. I also spotted antique furniture (in excellent condition) in pure teakwood in the room.

But what I spotted later was even more fascinating. I was not alone in the room. Suketu Mehta’s mom had kindly descended (descended from where?? I still haven’t figured!! ) in the room to keep me company or maybe stop me from stealing the antiques!!! (Why would I want to steal such heavy pieces of furniture is still a mystery to me!!)

Now his mom was wearing distinctly Parsi clothes!!! And they were beautiful. I don’t remember the color of her clothes. (Maybe I had a black and white dream and in my dream I had happily converted the Mehta’s from being Gujaratis to now being Parsi!!! Heheheheh…….)
I sit on one of the antiques without uttering a word. Nor does she speak to me. No one tells me that the woman sitting across me is, his mom. I just know. No one ever speaks in my dreams.

And now I just knew. I knew that as I would now get up and turn towards the door from which she had descended, I would meet Mr. Suketu Mehta.

So happily I turn, eager to meet him and I end up hearing this…………..

“ Manasi, kinetic che kagad patra ani chavi kuthe ahhe??????? ”

DAMN………………..DAMN…………..PLEASE NOOOOOO…………..

This is what my father chooses to ask me at 5 in the morning!!!!!

Nothing can be more disappointing than this!!

This was my only chance of meeting the writer and now that too has vanished!!! Now if someone tells me that you go meet his in your dreams, I will shoot him / her!!!!