Hari Shanker R

Hari Shanker R

A Happiness Engineer at Automattic.

Dream on!

If I’m asked to define myself in a word, or more precisely an adjective, I’d call myself a dreamer.

Ever since I was a kid, I used to have these dreams. The phrase ‘dreamless sleep’ is mostly alien to me. I don’t have a sleeping problem, per se, but I’d see some dream or the other every night. And I’d wake up with a vague memory of it. If you ask me about nightmares, well, I’ve had my share of them too. But when compared to the ‘dreams’ I see, they’re way less in terms of numbers. True, I’ve had many dreams(nightmares) that have actually left an indelible scarΒ  in my psyche, having scared me to the point of nausea. But some dreams, they’re nice – even awesome and rib-ticklishly-funny. Sometimes, I’d see these dreams play before me in technicolor as I wake up, almost like a recap of a cricket match. Sometimes, these dreams themselves wake me up, and I’d actually think that I’m living the dream – another reason behind the name of this blog (The Matrix – Neo). πŸ™‚

Being a Dreamer

This happened yesterday night.Β  I was brushing up my PHP and stitching up the new theme on this blog. There was this major glitch regarding the blog-post-listing on the main page. It was actually clashing with a few JQuery calls in the gallery and I was trying to change the layout of the index page. Two hours straight in front of the PC, and I was totally haggard. My eyes were drooping. Without even bothering to switch off my monitor, I flopped onto the bed, and in no time, I was fast asleep. Before I knew it, I was in another dream! πŸ™‚

The Audi Q7 rolled forward smoothly. ‘Smooth’ was the key word. You just needed a flick on the steering wheel to change direction. So were the gears and the brakes. I was more than thrilled. I could see him adjusting his brand new Ray Ban glasses from the rear view mirror.Β  The toussles ofΒ  his white turtleneck were frayed, and he matted them with his left hand, in a gradual rhythm. His right hand had a BlackBerry curve that he gingerly held to his right ear. The resounding nasal voice mouthed perfect, accent less English. Oddly enough, this man had a strikingly similar attire when I met him the first time. The same confidence, the same resounding persona, the exuding elegance – Prithviraj was still the same person I’d so wide-eyedly interviewed as a freelancer for a national newspaper. Ever since, I’d keenly followed the actor’s rising and due to some quirk of fate, I’d become his personal assistant today! We were taking a week-long break after a month-long shooting and had were on our way to this popular hill station called ‘Malshej’.

As we drove on to our destination, which was pretty-much close now, I felt my hands throbbing in trepidation. It was my first attempt at the Q7. Usually, the actor himself sits behind the wheel, when only the two of us were inside. But this time, for some reason, he handed me the keys to the car and seated himself in the back seat, as we left the shooting location to Malshej. Perhaps, he needed a rest from the tiresome day.

Suddenly, something happened.

It was a disturbing vibration. A very disturbing one, that is. I could feel my whole torso resonating to the tune of it. It emanated from the left-pocket of my cargoes. A vibrating mobile? No way, my mobile was actually in front of me. Prithvi had this high-end hands free system that synced with the car audio. I’d placed my phone in its dock. Besides, the shaking-sensation was too intense for mobile phone vibration! The vibration emitted a faint, quivering buzz. Even Prithvi noticed the sound and eyed me quizzically through the rear view mirror. I shrugged and placed my left arm on my left pocket. The object was solid, and the intensity scared me momentarily. But I fished the rectangular object out of my pocket and gave it a quick glance.

It was, as I had suspected, a mobile phone. A dark Nokia E72. My phone was a Samsung Star, andΒ  I’d no idea how the E72 came in my pocket.Β  but someone was calling! The phone continued ringing (vibrating). The number flashing on the screen looked vaguely familiar. It took me a moment to identify the number It was a close buddy from college days!! The surprise at having seen a random cellphone in my pocket evaporated immediately, at the happiness of seeing her call. It’d been almost a year since I’d talked to her. Ever since, I’d been with the actor, I rarely had time to socialize. Was this her idea of a surprise? πŸ˜› I grinned quite involuntarily as I picked up the handset. From the corner of my eye, I could see Prithvi’s expression change. His eyes dilated and his eyelids were almost popping out of their sockets as his mouth constricted in a perfect ‘O’. That was when I glanced back towards the windscreen.

I didn’t have time to react. The speeding MAN Trailer Truck was only a few inches away from the bonnet of the Q7.

I wasn’t fully aware of my surroundings as I woke up. My phone was clutched to my hand. My mind was a mess. It wasn’t fear, I wasn’t entirely terrified, so to speak. I was groggy, and before I knew it, I searched through the contacts list and dialled my friend (yes, the one that had called). I still have no idea why I did that. Perhaps, I actually thought she’d called me then and there. It was very very involuntary!

She did pick up the phone after a few rings. I didn’t even give her time for a ‘hello’.

“Did you call me a few minutes ago?”

She: “Hi, er… No, why?”

That jolted me back to my senses, kinda. I was ashamed, and almost blushing. My watch discreetly announced the time too. 12:33 AM! 😐 Since she was a gem of aΒ  person, she didn’t fire me and all. She actually sensed that there was amiss and was talking as if everything were normal. I apologized to her for disturbing her in the middle of the night, bade her good night and flopped back onto the bed. It took me six hours of sleep to get the hang o things. All the while, my PC was on! πŸ™‚

At this rate, it won’t be long before I sleepwalk all the way downtown! πŸ™‚

P.S.

If you thought that was weird, brace yourself! I’m weirder than what you can possibly imagine! πŸ˜›

Being a Dreamer

4 Comments

  1. /urgu

    I'm a dreamer, too. Not in your sense, but that i wishfully think a lot πŸ˜›

    Short stories okke aanallo dreams aayittu varane…

  2. @hollowmaniac

    You know… you always do that. Wish I could dream. At all that is.

    But then it's always pulled off like ossum πŸ™‚

    anyway, new look is suppa. More of you than a blogging site. πŸ™‚

    Have fun bro. Ciao.

  3. R Sidharth

    Dreams are messengers of the future.Dont misunderstand me though.Every man who aims big will have dreams.The interpretations that you make out of it can help you a lot.So guys make ur dreams ur greatest teacher,it will help you!

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