Excerpt from a Dream

And when realization struck the ethereal bird singing away a faint melody that scored the background of a vague dream, it muted itself. The virtual creature refused to carry its divine tune, even a cry of melancholy was not set free.

Perhaps it did not want to appease the dreamer. To be nothing more than a moment’s fancy, a toy or even less, to be a non-existent object of amusement did not appeal to the poor thing. The dream paced silent and dull, I grew weary with desire to hear that opiated tune…

“What an odd time to have an identity crisis… Be glad that you are a figment of my imagination who is free from the fetters of reality. You may exist and dissipate as you choose, if you are discontent with your feathers that flaunt the texture of the night, then pray, I shall endow you with the colours of the blazing sun, the spectrum of springtime flowers or immaculate winter snow. But be kind and resume your song so that life too may proceed in this absurd realm, my subconscious has modelled in its chaos.”

She gave me no reply, I made my reproach evident. My kindness was met with more silence and indifference. To her all my promises were the finest examples of folly. Perhaps to the non-existent, attires and forms have no value… Why does it matter if you are a bird, a dragon or a worm if you are not real?

I started analyzing a character that fiction had spawned, an invention of my own mind. The impatience grew heavy…..

” if you will not have my boons then suffer the weight of my wrath, the cog wheels of my mind spin to keep this world from tearing itself apart, I am the dreamer and this my dream. If you shall not abide to my wish then this dream will rot into a nightmare”.

As arrows are pulled out of quivers, she from her mind unscathed and uncomprehended by my own, pulled out words of revelation and spoke,

“Naive dreamer, if you could turn my feathers into stardust or sentence me to an eternity in oblivion, why can you not draw from me the melody you seek, this dream is not lucid as you may think. As I am conjured and unreal, so are you… You yourself are a figment of your own imagination. Let us not fret, for the day shall break us apart and forgetfulness shall devour us, the dreamer will be ignorant of us and the dream will be cast into the void.”

Perplexed by the queer answer tainted with a logic, alien to the realm whence I was spawned, the thoughts of my synthetic being flooded with malign energy. For in that timeless domain, daybreak was an eternity away and I could not bear with the existence of such a defiant entity, at least not in the constraints of my own psyche.

So I willed the fowl away, I cut the air and opened a void, so as to cast her away. And that abyss drew into itself the glittering of stars and the darkness of the night. It ate away day breaks and twilights, the green of pastures, the warmth of flames, the nestling of trees, the quintessence of all things…

The void devoured everything like a glutton. It fed on the very fibre that wove the nightmare together. Disrupting the quantum physics of an oneiric world, it swallowed all the yesterdays that never were and all the tomorrows that never will be.

All space and time was consumed, yet the bird and I remained unscathed, buoyant in emptiness.

Perturbed by this ineffable limbo, I spoke, “Usurping thought that defies my will, what purpose do you have in the serenity of my dreams?”

The creature sneered and questioned without contemplation, “Who are you?”

Baffled by that bewildering question, I pondered over the clandestine origins of my being.
I remembered the slithering of a serpent, the roar of a lion, the depths of water, the beating heart of an ancient and recollected wisdom from beyond the heavens.

But my imagination had tampered with my feeble memory and I recalled mostly fiction than fact. Of who I was, I could not tell, of my identity, only awakening could unveil.

I drowned in the depths of that absurd introspection and somewhere between the infinitesimal and eternal I metamorphosed into a worm…The bird pecked at me and I slipped down its beak and down its tracts, into a darkness grimmer than the void I tried to exile her. In its bowels I churned. My soul, my hopes and my cries digested and disintegrated. I felt the self, slowly waning away.
A rogue scream made itself evident in a brittle night and saturated in the silence of impending dawn. A speck of light pierced through the clouded heavens and my eye lids rose to greet the splendid sun, relief had finally dawned upon me…

Sleep had dissipated and the dream was done.

I awoke to the choir of feathered creatures and there I stood, with talons and wings, on the very tree that I saw the ethereal bird!!!

Memory which departed the night before, cascaded upon my knowing.

And in disbelief I explained to the flock, of how in a dream, I mistook myself for a man.

I soared away singing an opiated tune, appeasing my soul with a faint melody that I had so longed for.


About author

Agnivesh Harshan
Agnivesh Harshan 1 posts

Call me Agni. I believed that the desire to be a poet is the death of poetry. So I caged all the verses within me. But every now and then, I can feel my words yearn to touch, another soul. If they are worth being read, then let them not rot away in my silent memory.

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