A feisty ride on DREAM’S tide

I took the final left turn before the long straight. I could see a car by the end of it. That meant I would overtake him by a lap in some time. But when I looked into the rear view mirror, I could see the car of Sebastian Vettel; that’s when I stepped on the gas. Within few seconds I was doing 286 kmph on the straight stretch of road. I kept pushing as I neared another corner. Next I heard some instructions on the radio. It wasn’t clear but I thought I heard “This is the last lap before the pits”. As I wasn’t sure so I said “Repeat please”. I got some reply, but again extremely hazy. I concentrated on the voice. And I heard “Get up dear, its 8.20 now, we got to leave by 9.” I could barely open my eyes, but I saw my mom standing beside me.

                That’s when I realized it was all a DREAM, nothing but a DREAM. But whatever it was, I Loved every bit of it. Driving a Ferrari F10 in the Shanghai Grand Prix. Extreme speed and concentration, excruciating pain because of the G forces, adrenalin rush, everything was present.  It was all perfect. I then rushed through my daily chores and got ready within 25 minutes. I had been waiting only for 5 minutes, I got a bus. I and mom boarded it.

 I was sitting on a chair in the portico enjoying the cool breeze, that’s when something grabbed my attention. It was a bicycle. It suddenly brought a huge smile on my face. Without giving a second thought, I took it out for a ride. I was riding it after approximately 4 years. I tentatively rode it within the house. As I gained on confidence I took it out. At first around the house, then slowly I started moving here and there. I almost covered all the roads near the house, somewhat or the other, but there was a kachha road which fascinated me a lot. It was a typical village type of a road. Red in color, abrasive, but relatively plain. I kept following it for some time. I saw a bullock cart, and I realized that the marks on the track were because of the carts not “cars”. Three children were sitting on it and their dad driving it. It was very a pleasant view. Then there were women in veils washing clothes, kids playing with cycle tires, some throwing stones on a mango tree. All very typical stuff. I smiled and kept moving.

 Slowly I found things changing. Less people, huge stretch of barren land, no trees. I was confused, yet I refused to retreat. I had been riding for the past 15 minutes, I felt so calm and relieved. As minutes passed I was getting tired, well that’s completely normal and expected, but I felt much more tiredness than what I had anticipated. I gradually started feeling I belonged to this place. The barren lands turned into fertile land, full of some crops which I couldn’t recognize. Complete greenery, beautiful trees, some exceptionally beautiful birds which I had never seen earlier. Some people here and there. A very sparsely populated area. After 10 more minutes, I just looked back. I was surprised to see that my current altitude had actually risen by approximately 7 meters than what I had started off. So that solved the tiredness mystery but there was more to come. After exactly 3 minutes I saw a shack. I knew this place. The shack was mine, a coconut tree farm near it was mine, a bucket full of shrimps and crabs caught by me was there, a half made boat made by me was there, and it was my life. I could see a very old woman inside the shack. As I was entering, my eyes crossed a mirror. I saw an old man about the age of 75. Semi bald, mildly wrinkled, a white shirt and Khakee trousers. It was me. I then realized the mystery of tiredness. I had been growing old by every minute spend on the bicycle ride. Right now I was at the ending phase of my life. Just the way I wanted it to be, simple and relishing. I realized who the lady was, but just as I turned towards her, some sharp and shrilling sound caused me to close my eyes. When I opened my eyes, I found the bus at a stop and some vendors shouting near my window. Gosh yet another DREAM! Within a span of 3 hours I had seen two dreams. Both were up to a great extent related to me. But then they both had no connection in between them. To be frank I enjoyed the bicycle ride more than the ferrari. I tried very hard to recollect how I came into these situations. I tried hard to recollect the starting of the dreams. But then how often do we remember the beginning of a dream?