Dreams. Violent dreams.
Dreams have never been my allies. But I had always managed to keep them neutral, except for a few stand-alone mutinies once a month or two. But now it seems they’ve turned on me completely, Fall of Bastille-style. Earlier I didn’t use to dream, only rarely and that too only vaguely. Slowly, the frequency kept increasing until now, when I dream every night. And oh, another point. I never have good dreams. I don’t think I had a single good dream in my life. Well, for that matter I don’t have nightmares too. I don’t, most of the times, wake up with a start, my T-shirt wet with perspiration, Harry Potter style. I only have one kind of dream: uneasy, unsettling ones. As a child I used to have a particular recurring dream where I would be confined deep down into the earth, in a network of burrows of rabbit-like creatures who were blind. That feeling of claustrophobia haunted me for years as a child. Later on, I didn’t have any particular dreams to tackle with, life was quite interesting in waking hours.
Recently, the dreams have made a vicious comeback. Last one month or so, I’m dreaming every night. Now, it’s normal for others, but not for me. They have been fiercer than ever in attacking my conscious. They say dreams come from oversleeping or in a distracting mind. People sleep a dreamless sleep after a hard day’s work. Heck, even that luxury was stolen from me. Exam time going on, I’m sleeping at 4:00 AM in the morning, all groggy-eyed, to wake up at 6:00 AM for exam, and in those two godforsaken hours too, dreams would dance maniacally in my head. And what dreams! The ferocity, the intensity, and the doomed existential characteristics of the dreams keep increasing with each one of them. Sometimes, I’m shocked at the extent to which the dreams defy the forbidden rules of my conscience, as if they have an independent identity of their own.
Last two days. Last two dreams. In one, I had to kill one of my good friends to retrieve some information for my ‘bosses’, and later, just as in Crime and Punishment, I was plagued by a murderer’s conscience, wandering here and there, with a million things going on in my mind within the dream. During that time, I did wake up with a start, quite shocked. Yesterday, I was a young house-servant of an old, retired Army officer, secretly attracted to his young, voluptuous wife. The retired Army officer was deeply involved in intra-state espionage and subversive activities. I was chosen to do a secret errand for him. The errand somehow went wrong at the end, I was shot at, thus compromising mine and my master’s whereabouts and intentions. This led to a confrontation with my master in front of his wife. He killed her and then forced me to kill myself, as I would have to take the blame of the whole conspiracy anyway. I had no choice, we were already surrounded, so I killed myself. The officer was tried for treason, but later placed under house arrest. By the end of his life, he was even awarded the honorary title of Major(I don’t know a thing about titular hierarchy of armed forces, just a figment of my imagination). It took on a very dramatic, picturesque flavor by the end.
The intensity and dark nature of my dreams remind me of Dostoyevsky‘s stories. He even wrote a story directly related to dreams (My Uncle’s Dream), I guess it was the first thing of Dostoyevsky I had read.