Closed eyes and open trivia
Some people wake up in the morning and remember absolutely nothing. They either don’t dream or don’t bother to retain. Either way, they are comparatively lucky because they aren’t losing out on anything special. In fact, they are gaining blank shuteye that helps your body repair better. For the rest of us, dreams are an integral part of our existence. We see things with our eyes closed as much as we do with them wide open. Searching for meaning can be a tiresome task but doing it 24/7—even when a person is supposed to be asleep; accounting for one-third of the day — is taking it to the next level.
I used to google to check what meant what in a dream. If I am flying, does it mean I am going through a destructive phase? In case I am repeatedly falling down the stairs, what should I do in real life? And stuff like this which, in all consciousness, doesn’t take you anywhere substantial. However, I’ve grown out of this search mode for meaning in dreams.
Although the sleep-related experts might disagree with me, I safely concluded that dreams are nothing more than our mind’s attempt to keep itself entertained. Think of it as a train that has to keep running even when the motorman isn’t in command, so it takes all the detours it can possibly take — from derailing to diving into the ocean to entering a cave to snaking out of unspeakable tunnels — even flying for fuck’s sake — just because it can.
As if we can control our mind while we are actually awake!
Anyhow, two nights ago, I watched the most vivid of dreams from recent memory. Which was strange as I can’t sleep tight for more than 2-3 hours at a stretch, and this particular dream felt like a 6-7 hour movie.
I was in the mountains, facing heavy snow, and in the middle of scenic but eerie loneliness. As is the case with most dreams, you already have a faint idea why you are there, like a soldier on a mission. So, I am trekking up although the weather is getting colder, wetter and more dangerous. But for some screwed up logic, I am creeping higher and higher.
Plot twist: I am wearing clothes meant for Gurgaon’s 45 degrees weather.
I can feel ice smarting into my blue shoes and there is a strange coldness — not the kind harsh tundra is associated with. This is more like being in an oven but it’s cold. Anyway, I keep stepping up, thinking of a Hindi chapter from sixth standard wherein Nehru wrote about the dangers of sliding into gaps covered by heavy snow in the Himalayas.
Conclusion: I was in the Himalayan range.
Carefully treading my way up, I can barely see but my mind is skipping from one trivia to another. More than two-third of world’s population has only heard of or seen snow in pictures, making me fortunate to experience it so closely. Somehow, I continue upwards and when I finally look up, I see a snow leopard peering straight down at me. The distance between us must be between 30 to 50 yards. For a second or so, I looked for the Instagram’s heart button to like because I follow a lot of accounts that celebrate flora and fauna.
Awwwkward.
Useless trivia of the day: There are more people alive today who have been to space than those who have seen snow leopard in nature.
Whoa! I must be super-lucky in this dream to have encountered a snow leopard so intimately. But then, we seldom get to know we are in a dream when we are in a dream. So, I do what anybody with an ass would do: try to save myself. And I slide down, basically hobble, trying to maintain balance on the slushy snow. I can feel as if I am walking briskly in a running rivulet except that the water is frigid. My shoes are beyond drenched and I can feel my legs getting cold as the jeans has soaked in whatever came its way up and down.
To add character to the drama, I can now hear the snow leopard. It’s sounding very meow-ish, and my restless trivia-addled brain is thinking of the fact that the old Egyptian word for cat sounded a lot like meow, that cheetahs (surprisingly) make meow-like sound too, and that Asiatic cheetahs were the first species to go extinct in independent India. And all this is happening when I am running for my life.
Speaking of priorities, without the courage of looking back and checking where the snow leopard has reached, I keep sliding, tripping, moving in whatever ways possible. There is no end in sight. I have no idea when this chase will end and more importantly, whether there is a chase in the first place. But I continue to hear some sound and it’s very, well, catty. In my head, it’s a miracle I hadn’t frozen to death yet. And just when I am thinking of how George Mallory — yes, that guy who said he wanted to summit Mt. Everest “because it’s there” — couldn’t become the first person to climb the tallest mountain in the world simply because you have make it down alive: his body was discovered, quite preserved underneath the snow, 75 years later.
I am sure of dying at this moment and am wondering whether somebody will find my corpse later. And just at that very moment, I feel something hit me on the back and I immediately presumed it to be the snow leopard’s paws.
On the other side of this dream, I woke up like The Undertaker on my bed, sweating profusely, lost in the irony of switching from snow to dust.
