The Instant Teleporter

Sometimes dreams take on the surrealistic feel, and you don’t know if it is the dream world or the actual one.

Mainly, though, they become such on the night before the exam, when suddenly you realize (in your dream mostly, and sometimes really as well), that you don’t know anything. You stare at the question paper with visions of failure.

Then you wake up. Take a look around. It is still dark. You are on a bed. You are surprised. A few seconds later you realize, it was just a dream. You drink a little water, switch on the lights, read a few pages from the book, feel slightly satisfied, and doze off.
The alarm then wakes you suddenly. You feel you have not slept enough. But that is another story.

Well something similar happened last week. But it was not the exams, and that why, I still love the dream and hope that I can dream such dreams more often (but then the charm will wear away).

It was Saturday night, and I was really really bored. Just a year back, boring days in IIT would just mean that I will take the 524 home. And such visits home was neatly planned. For weekends, I used to wake up early on Friday morning, sign the attendance and I would be at home by lunch time. And on Mondays, I took the 11Am bus, and made it just before the attendance registers were closed for the day. Mid-week jaunts were similarly planned, and if for some reason, I was extra lazy the next morning, I would not go back, and then re-plan my 15 days paid leave meticulously. Those were those days. Boring days killed with useless chatting with amma and appa and lots of cricket and news on the TV, and a book. But, the essential thing was home. I don’t know why, but the lazy mornings in Nerul seem so ideal to me now.

Coming back to the story, on saturday night, bored out of my wits, I drifted into sleep. Much later in the night, I just transported myself back to IIT.

Suddenly, the plan of going home flashed in front of me. I looked out of my window, to see the early morning, and I decided to take a couple of shirts and a book and head home. I woke up, and put the things in my bag.

Realization stuck then. I saw America out of my window.

It was a dream, but a beautiful one. Not because of what I saw, but because, it let me imagine being at home. It recreated the beautiful Bombay weekends. It reminded me, not of a strong memory, not of a great story, not of a funny/sad/important day, but of a normal weekend, with nothing special in it. The dream, however, made the normalcy special.

Such dreams, at the cusp of dreams and reality are rare. This one, made my day and week.


1.My Mac died! And, I am literally crying over spilled milk.
2.Research looks good. And, I do get some work done with no courses to worry about.
3.Plans for the summer are still in the planning stages. Hope they take some shape soon.

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