You come to, amidst the wreckage of your own making. You toss and turn over for some shut eye, hoping to see the dream again. But you are awake…
The twinkle of her soft eyes as they look at you, simply out of a motionless picture, fills your heart. Somewhere along the twisted strangeness of emotions you realize you’re feeling different. You stretch out and try keeping awake till she says goodnight or have you fallen asleep before? There’s a sweetness of her voice in your mind, maybe since you have never heard it before. But you know she speaks from the heart. That’s where it all matters. You sit before her for hours at a stretch and feel you haven’t had enough. You pray to go for a walk at the dead of the night with her, deep in the moonlit night, to tell her, you have invariably fallen in love with her.
Touching one’s soul was a difficult thing to do. Rather easier in a dream, when you want to fall asleep just to see her. Every time you dreamt, she was just a dream, nowhere to be real; nowhere to be half as possible. You touch her face and she seems to be a doll, a doll of your own imagination. But her eyes are full of life, like you know them for a thousand years. Her smile brightens your day. And when she weeps, the day darkens and glooms behind the shadows. You talk to her portrait; her lips seem to move in reply, her eyes twinkle in the encore of your words. Her softest arms are around you when you cry, your sobs lost in the ruffles of her hair. You tend to want to share everything and want her to see everything beautiful that you have seen; to show her what she meant in your life; and a promise that you would always be there. Everything in life, becomes a surreal reflection of her.
And then it shivers, like a candle shivering out from the wind. The sprouted wings are stepped on. The air suddenly becomes painful to take in. Your chest is heavy. Your eyes open, unfocussed, looking weirdly about, at what caused the commotion. It was a dream. Past the point of no return…!
You come to, amidst the wreckage of your own making. Dreams simply had a nasty way of going bad when you’re not looking.
But you are awake...!
