Tag Archives: dreams

Still I rise!

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
’Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
’Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise

I rise.

-Maya Angelou.

And thus I love this woman too.

When You Just Cannot Breathe!

I was strangled. A rope tied around my neck, the grip was getting tighter by the second, and my eyes were widening with the same force. Beads of sweat rolled from my forehead, to the corners of my cheeks, towards the chin falling onto my breasts, mingling with the musk beneath.

 

I tried to free my hands, my legs, but all I could do was to sway in motion on the floor, wriggling like a paralyzed dog. Then came the panic attack and I couldn’t breathe, I thought it was just an attack out of fear, but no I couldn’t breathe any more. My mouth was trying to tear through the duct tape- in vain kissing it. My eyesight was simply wading, I could barely see any more. People were coming in, finally coming in view, but just at that very moment my eyes gave in, my senses were crumbling. Legs were moving in front of me, I could see through the watery eyes, despite the blazing fury. I could listen to their heartfelt laughter, despite the wringing noise in my ears.

I kicked one last time, in vain.

I gripped my hands with the fingers through the rope, in vain.

I stomped, wriggled, in vain.

I craned my neck, in vain.

I breathed the last sigh, trying to relieve the pain, but in vain.

I strained to see, but all in vain.

I shut my eyes, falling deep, deep into the oceans of nothingness, uncertainty.

I was so choked up, I just couldn’t breathe, I lost all hope, surrendering to that uncertainty.

And just then I woke up, finally breathing again.

Waking Up With A Smile.

I woke up with a smile today!! Yeah, I was as surprised. Just before I was coming back to consciousness, bidding good bye to my unconscious or absolute unconscious, there was a light shy smile on my face. Yes, I could feel it all, almost know why I was smiling too. But just then I woke up and realized that I was smiling. How was it possibly even true? I barely smile awake, I mean to say, I laugh, a lot, but smiling is different to me and there I was smiling pretty smiles in my dreams, in my sleep. And just then fear gripped me for smiling and I stopped immediately and came back to reality. I woke up.

 

But it would be good if I could remember exactly why I was smiling about, what was so good, even if in my dreams that made me smile. Why couldn’t I have it in reality? What was it in my dreams? Why was it in my dreams? What was so fulfilling? Why did I forget it? I sure remember all the nightmares, so accurately, so precisely then why couldn’t I remember the one dream that I want to remember!!

I Am!

I am—yet what I am none cares or knows;
My friends forsake me like a memory lost:
I am the self-consumer of my woes—
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shadows in love’s frenzied stifled throes
And yet I am, and live—like vapours tossed
Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life or joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life’s esteems;
Even the dearest that I loved the best
Are strange—nay, rather, stranger than the rest.
I long for scenes where man hath never trod
A place where woman never smiled or wept
There to abide with my Creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept,
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie
The grass below—above the vaulted sky.
John Clare.
Unknown
If you have known me for a while, you’ll know that I fall in love very easily, and even more easily when the person I fall in love with, writes so beautifully, (or the thing that I fall for is such a wonderful poem) expresses so wonderfully, almost speaks what I want to speak without even having to say it. So after my love for Kamala Das, Sylvia Plath, Bronte sisters, Emily Dickinson, Pablo Neruda, (and of course some Urdu poets which I have come to know about very recently) now I have fallen for this very beautiful man/poet John Clare. Yes, he is my new love, and this poem is my very new addiction that I am reading again and again and yet again.
No, I am not cheating on the others, oh come on I could never do that.  I think I just have an open relationship with all my lovelies. 😉

To The One Who Dreams

Because I am feeling a little dreamy today,

Because I am reading something too beautiful today,

Because everything is too good to be true today,

Because I believe; today:

to-the-girl-who-reads-by-flashlight-who-sees-dragons-28807347.png

 

Dreams!!

 

Do dreams come true?

Before you say yes, let me make it clear that I am not talking about those dreams which we see through our eyes open, the dream of becoming someone, something, the dream of being with someone, of achieving something, the dream of going to some place. No, I am not talking about that.

I am talking about the dreams which come to you, unwanted, absolutely undesirable, and haunt you in the middle of the night, the kind of dream which leave you panting, breathless not with passionate excitement but with downright disgust and pain, the dream which makes you perspire like you have run a thousand miles only to discover that you are yet to reach your finfish line, and there are tons of people ahead of you.

I am not running, actually, I am just sitting on the bed, gasping for air, trying to breathe in that clammy air, but all I can do is clutch through the sheets and make myself believe that this was just a dream.

But then sometimes even dreams come true, I have heard. Even my dreams have come true at some point in my life. So what assurance do I have that this dream won’t come true? What if? And this what if kills me every single second.

I am not even considering the fact that this dream might come true. No, I don’t have that much courage in me. I will live in denial!!!!!

But the mere thought stabs my heart.

Then comes the theory that we dream what our mind thinks for most part of the day. I accept I have such disturbing thoughts throughout the day, try as I might, they won’t go. My mind is just not under my control. And so they control my days and even nights.

Just when I think that these thoughts are finally, under my control they come back with a different attire and style only to depress me. Just when I think that these dreams are beyond me, they return with an updated version. So for how long will they bounce back? How many years more will they keep coming back to me? Aren’t they tired of me? I sure am.

And so I lay there wondering, struggling for air, wanting someone, something, anything beside me to hold onto, to just make me believe that I am being irrational, that it is only a dream. But all I do instead is to struggle to even breathe and ask myself, ‘Do dreams come true?’

And if the good ones do then so can the dreadful ones, and if they do, then what?

A Man With The Mask

Happy, ecstatic, joyous, exuberant, there is just no one word to define the feeling when someone special is going to take you out on a date.

And to make the occasion extra special I go to extreme terms and dress up just for him. With a little bit of lipstick, a red dress, and a pair of high heels I am ready right on time. Of course I’ll be ready on time, if I’d be preparing for hours. Restless, I check the windows for any sign of his car, the phone for any texts. And just a few minutes later a horn blows off, and I am pretty sure it’s him.

Hiding behind the curtains, I take a glimpse, confirming that it’s him. Then, composing myself I go to the door to welcome him. Out of habit, I look through the peep hole.

It is not him. There is no one.

The doorbell rings again, constantly.

It is definitely not him.

I look through it again. And I fall back a couple of steps, trying to hold onto something, to be stable. I have never seen such a creature in my life. There is a lean, bony man outside, looking right at me, right at that tiny hole, making his face larger. He is smiling at it, smiling cunningly. He has a dark complexion, with weird teeth, and ears too big for any human face. He is wearing a black mask. He is laughing; I can hear it through the sound proof door. And just when I gulp down the saliva from my mouth, he starts banging on the door, laughing, and screaming, ‘I am going to get you.”

I double lock the door, rush to the windows and lock them too. I run to my room, locking the balcony, bolting every possible door and window, increasing the claustrophobia within. The air grows thick; I am sweaty, unable to breathe, shivering with fear and rage. Doubt and apprehension fill my mind.

Where is he?

Who is this creature?

What is going on?

What am I supposed to do?

I rush to grab my phone, and somehow the battery is drained, wasn’t it charged about 80%, right before he was to come?

The landline is dead.

And then the power goes off.

The next thing I know is I am in my bed, hardly breathing, craving for some air, my mouth is dry, and the mascara from my eyes has spread beyond my pink cheeks. I lay quite, befriending silence, trying to listen to any sound.  I have one arm under the pillow, shivering, holding a small gun, when I hear footsteps.

It couldn’t be.

I locked everything.

The shadow neared.

And my terror augmented.

Any thought of the date, a someone special, was nowhere in my mind now.

And then that lean, dark and bony creature entered my room.

His laugh sent shivers down me, and all my mind could think of was “Why me?”

The mask was not my illusion; it was a confirmation, the only common link among all the recent rape cases in the town, of all the women who were raped and murdered. He was the same man, the man with the mask!

He was a serial killer.

In my house?

Our eyes met, and he bent to grab my legs.

I kicked and waved with all my might, tears stinging my eyes. I got up, grabbed the blanket and covered my body, and with the other hand, I held the gun, pointing right at him.

Only it was not a gun. Instead it was a bed side lamp.

Only, there was no serial killer in my room, there was no one.

Only, I had been dreaming, dreaming the plot of the book that I am currently reading.

All sweaty, and craving for some air, I put down the lamp silently, and yet hesitated to open the windows. My mouth went dry at the mere thought of the dream. Sure, it was just a dream but I had seen it too closely.

I gulped down a glass of water, splashing some onto my face and went back to bed not daring to go outside, not wanting to even take a peek outside, till the sun came up.

 

PS: Currently reading,  ‘A Thin Dark Line’ by Tami Hoag.