Have you ever had one of those days when you wake up from a dream, and can’t shake it out of your head for the rest of the day? Well, I am having such a day today. It is 10 am now. Amol and Parag have left for school and work. The house is quiet after the hustle bustle of the morning routine. I settle back with a cup of coffee and the newspaper on the couch. It is time for my daily me time, before I get into the cleaning-cooking-washing routine. But today, my eyes just can’t seem to take in any words. The dream keeps playing over and over in my mind, and the images keep flashing in front of my eyes like a movie on loop.
It is surely one of the most bizarre dreams I have ever had. I cannot make head or tail of it now, but it still seems so real.
I am tending to the rose bushes in the garden. The spring is just arriving, and my garden is starting to look fresh again. I enjoy the cool March breeze and the loving warmth of the Sun. Amol is near me, helping me prune the bushes and weed out unwanted saplings. I look at him, and pride swells my heart. All of 14 years, he is one of those rare teenagers nowadays who loves gardening and housekeeping more than video games or ‘hanging out’. He catches me looking at him, and smiles. I smile back, and hear the courier guy’s voice at the gate.
“I’ll get it,” says Amol, sprinting away even before I register what he said. I go back to my bushes, wondering what is arriving in the package today.
I drop my garden tools and run towards the gate. It is wide open, and something seems to be hurtling away. I see a huge forklift rolling down the road. On its rear are printed the words ‘You Will Never Escape Fate‘. I catch a glimpse of Amol’s blue checkered shirt from the front of the forklift. Sweat breaks all over my face, as I realize the forklift is carrying Amol between its spikes.
I run behind it like mad. There is quite some distance between us, but that does not stop me from following it into the narrow alley. As I pass through the alley, I realize it is wide enough only for two people like me to pass through side by side. I shoot a questioning glance at the forklift, just in time to see it turn a corner. Technical details flying out of my mind, I hasten my pace to get to Amol.
As I reach the end of the alleyway, I turn to look in the direction the forklift went. I see it parked right beyond the corner. There is no Amol in it though. I run around, frantically calling out his name. Through the tears that blur my vision, I see Amol’s shirt again. He is standing near an ice cream vendor, buying out ice creams for an entire group. He is always like this. He likes to share his happiness and joys, and so multiply them. I am so proud of him.
I weave through the crowd to reach him. “Amol,” I call out, when I am near enough. He does not turn. I think that the crowd is too noisy for him to hear. I put my palm on his shoulders, to draw his attention.
He turns. Parag smiles at me from inside that blue checkered shirt. My eyes widen in confusion. Parag’s smile grows wide and he pulls me closer to his side. “Baby, I love you,” he says. Exactly the same way he used to say fifteen years ago.
“I want to marry you, and grow old holding your hand,” he says. I feel my heart melting after a really long time.
I say Yes, but Parag never hears it. A black container truck comes hurtling down at us, at great speed, and takes Parag away. I am standing there, alone again, watching the setting sun on the golden sands of a desert.
I jump up from the couch. How long have I been sitting? Is it noon already? The clock says it is ten to twelve. How come Amol is back so soon? He comes rushing in, his hair ruffled, uniform in a disarray.
“Amma, you won’t believe this. I was walking down the road to my school when I heard someone call out my name. He looked dark, and scary. And you know what he did? He tried to hit me with a forklift!”
This post was written for Project 365: We Post Daily. Today’s prompt was – Write a post about anything you’d like, but be sure to include this sentence somewhere in the final paragraph: “He tried to hit me with a forklift!”
Image Courtesy: Creative Commons