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Saturday, June 16, 2012

"Dreams - Ugly Truths, Beautiful Lies"

Dear friends, have you ever wondered what a dream really is? Why do you have a dream at the first place? What your dreams mean? To tell you that allow me to take help of a cliche...

“Mirror Mirror on the Wall…”

Your dreams are nothing but a cruel mirror; Dreams never lie… Dreams are our sweet little exclusively personal mirror. We cannot taint or distort our share of dreams at our wish. Nightmares specifically are the ugly side our existence.

We all have our own sweet share of dark secrets. We try so hard to hide them under the emaciated layer of our conscious mind. None of us really dare to face the mirror and glimpse our darker side. But can we really sluice away all those stinky, rusty, murky feelings from our mind? You can Run, you can Hide, but you Cannot erase those fades paying around your little mind. They all come back, some way or the other.

“The waking life, with its trial and joys, its pleasures and pains, is never repeated; on the contrary, the dream aims at relieving us of these. Even when our whole mind is filled with one subject, when our hearts are rent by bitter griefs or when some task has been taxing our mental capacity to the utmost, the dream either gives us something entirely alien, or it selects for its combinations only a few elements of reality; or it merely enters into the key of our mood, and symbolizes reality” – Burdach, Psychiatrist.

Dreams are the reproduction of memory, good or bad. We generally don’t pay heed to what our subconscious mind tries to tell. It is sort of dumping bin for our obdurate conscious self. All our socially unacceptable thoughts, malice wishes, pungent desires, harrowing memories, and agonizing emotions come out of mind by the mechanism of mental subjugation. None of us are really beyond the lesser vices like jealousy, greed, narcissism, gender competition, extra-nuptial attractions, over possessiveness, suspicion. Even somewhere deep down we are little jealous on our best friend’s uncanny good luck or own little sister’s shockingly good looking boy friend.

May be not always, but somewhere, sometime! We all crave for good luck, career, wealth, life, look or love at some point of our life. The subtle try to attract the guy wearing dresses with deep neckline, showing little skin and inviting him in the mysterious world physical attraction. We all have our own share of memories, a deep passionate kiss with the slender, tall, dark boy – long lost and all rusty enough to forget. Embarrassing enough to even remember – because it all happened under the cozy welcoming darkness lying underneath a huge eucalyptus tree. The memory of getting bullied by the so called babes of the college for wearing a awkward pink dress in the prom night.

All our secret cravings, moments of fear, horrific memories come out of some or the other incident that happened at some point of time. In most cases we don’t want to remember them, specially the cases like rape, or physical tortures. But not always we hate to remember, especially when those moments are much cherished deep within our hearts. Albeit our consciousness doesn’t allows us to brood over these not more than a minute or so. Yet at the same time, no matter how hard we try, it keeps on creeping into our mind time again, making us more guilt conscious and helplessly angry with our selves.

"If someone talks of sub consciousness, I cannot tell whether he means the term topographically – to indicate something lying in the mind beneath consciousness – or qualitatively – to indicate another consciousness, a subterranean one, as it were. He is probably not clear about any of it. The only trustworthy antithesis is between conscious and unconscious." – Sigmund Freud

When we are awake we try to be good as far as it is not charging us any toll. But once we drown deeper under the thick layers of sleep and the so called sentinel of consciousness starts to loosen its grips, we slowly and reluctantly surrender ourselves in the hands of our darker self. Where there is no rule, no moral values, no righteousness prevailing, yelling at us to behave appropriately.

At that point of time the dreams, good or bad, seeps in and spreads all over like fog. Slowly enough tightens the clasps and binds us with our own fantasies. The good dreams are the reflection of our unspoken and undone good aspirations, whatever we know is going to be accepted and appreciated by society as well if ever done really. But then how many of us really lucky enough to have sweet dreams every night. So what are these bad dreams all about? Our bad dreams, dreaded nightmares are the manifestation of our despicable side. All of a sudden we find ourselves sitting on our bed, heavily pounding heart, panting for air, sweat beads all over our face. All those eerie wishes or much fantasized thoughts start playing around with your mind. Probably you would have tried to abort those at the very moment of conception, but you could not!

We all know about famous psychiatrist Sigmund Freud who had written a book naming, “The Interpretation of Dreams”. Let me explain how he tried to relate these subconscious feelings with the attitude and behavior of an individual when he is fully conscious and functional.

"In the following pages, I shall demonstrate that there exists a psychological technique by which dreams may be interpreted and that upon the application of this method every dream will show itself to be a senseful psychological structure which may be introduced into an assignable place in the psychic activity of the waking state. I shall furthermore endeavor to explain the processes which give rise to the strangeness and obscurity of the dream, and to discover through them the psychic forces, which operate whether in combination or opposition, to produce the dream. This accomplished by investigation will terminate as it will reach the point where the problem of the dream meets broader problems, the solution of which must be attempted through other material." – Freud.

Freud believed that the function of dreams is to preserve sleep by representing as fulfilled wishes that would otherwise awaken the dreamer.

"I found in myself a constant love for my mother, and jealousy of my father. I now consider this to be a universal event in childhood," Freud said

He explained this complex psychological incident with the famous Pleasure Principle which talks about Id, Ego, and Super Ego. Anyway we all know that every human being is a super complex cluster of organism. Human psyche is like a complex nautical knot with many layers, sub layers and pseudo layers. Forget about knowing your parents, boyfriend, girlfriend or spouse, I can bet that you cannot even fully understand yourself!

The three main layers which drive you to behave the way you do, does not work in line. The id is the absolutely unconscious, impulsive, child-like part of the psyche that operates on the "pleasure principle" and is the foundation of basic impulses and drives; it seeks instantaneous gratification and indulgence. Be it physical, mental or pecuniary pleasure. The super-ego is the ethical constituent of the mind, which takes into account no special situation in which the ethically right thing might not be precise for a given circumstances. It is the little governing body within our mind which tries to control and drive us in an ethical way to comply with the civilized society. The ego component is rather rational enough and always attempts to strike a balance between the unrealistic hedonism and impulsiveness of the id and the equally impractical super ethicality of the super-ego. The Ego part of the consciousness usually affects most directly in a person's behavior. When a person comes under huge stress of behaving nicely, and try hard completely out of his / her way, then the ego part starts to employ different automatic defense mechanisms including denial, repression, and displacement. The famous "Iceberg Model" is the best to pictorially depict this complex concept. Id, Ego, and Super Ego play directly with the conscious and unconscious thoughts on a person.

There are different types of nightmares, like; some people see that they are being stabbed by a knife, from back. Some people see they never reach the destination in time no matter how much ever they try. Some others see snakes in their dreams or find themselves stuck under a barrage of water. Many see themselves to fall freely while sleeping and never find anything to hold upon, or sometime running for our lives, but unclear about from whom or what we are running away. And in almost all the nightmare we find ourselves unable to scream, out voice become suddenly muted. But one thing is common for everyone; all our dreams are black and white. No matter how colorful we try to paint them they all are only in different shades of gray.

Though very surprising but indeed sometime we really find ourselves in almost similar situations sometimes. Let me give you some real examples I found from different sources…

"A few days before his assassination, American President Abraham Lincoln, who was very attentive to his dreams, dreamt of his own corpse laid out in a room in the white house."

"Martin Luther King also seems to have had a precognitive dream about his death a few months before his assassination. A day before the Titanic's demise, a woman on the infamous ship dreamt of the horrible event that was to occur the next day. She told her husband, who scoffed at her worries and ignored her pleas. However, the dream so affected her that she secretly prepared herself the night before and had all her children sleep in their warm clothes in order to be ready at a moment's notice. During the night, when the ship struck the iceberg, she and her children managed to escape and be rescued. Her husband, sadly, went down with the ship."

As per Sigmund Freud, very dream good or bad contains two parts, viz. a manifested content and a latent content. Many a times it happened that we cannot recall any part of it, in such a case the dream was constituted with only latest content. The layers of dream is formed with the images captured or sensory impressions stored during the whole day, the images or impressions still lingering from the day before and the id facet of the individual. Super Ego is at its best functionality when you are awake. Ego as well gets a chance to strike a tradeoff between super ego and id only when you are in your senses. But when you are sleeping, you are all alone with your raw instinct and wild id facet of your psyche.

We can analyze an individual’s characteristics and the way he behaves, by analyzing his dreams. You can run, you can hide, but you can't escape your dreams! He might tell ample lies when he is awake, but when he is in way under deep dark sleep his dreams will afloat. And we all know that our dreams never lie. . . ;-)

Monday, June 11, 2012

Dedicated to all the readers of Yellow Torn Pages :-)

If Only...


29th May 2010

Emergency Division, N.R.S. Hospital, Kolkata…

The clock on the wall ticked 3:25am. The darkness outside the corridor is gradually fading into lighter shade of black. Sohini, sitting in the waiting room, shifted on her chair uneasily. Her hollow eyes still trying to search answers to many unanswered questions, even tears on her cheek had dried long back. One attendant was silently entering daily updates of the patients in the desktop computer. The white fluorescent lights seeping out of the artificial ceiling gave the whole corridor a dreamy look. Sohini was waiting there for a long time.

When she first received the call it was somewhat around midnight, the number blinking on the cell phone screen was showing “Baba calling…”. She thought her father might be calling her to wake her up as they arrive. With sleeping eyes she received the call only to hear an unknown voice asking about her relation with Mr. Ashok Roy. Suddenly all the sleepiness rushed away and a blood watering chill ran down her spine. The voice over phone was requesting her to come to NRS hospital. He also informed her if possible then, to get a few elder member of the family with her. With a shivery hand she managed to cut the call and called uncle to inform him about the situation. They stay little away from the main city. She realized that by the time they come to pick her up from home it might be too late for such a grave situation. So she requested them to directly come and meet her at the hospital itself. She had a tough time to get a taxi at that hour of the day, but the taxi driver was good enough to understand the situation and reached her as early as possible.

She barged inside the emergency division, where there were police officers and a few others, might be eye witnesses or passerby. Anyone of them might have called her from her father’s cell phone, she guessed. One of the police officer walked up to her and asked her name and relation with Mr. Roy. Later he only led her to the corridor where there were 4 stretchers kept in a row and none were empty. The officer went up to each and every stretcher and removed the white sheet of cover a little, so that she can identify the faces. First she saw a innocent fair face of a teen boy; her little brother. Dead, her only brother, whom she adored the most, now lying on the stretcher dead as a stone. She touched his small face, still warm. How could he die, possibly he is still alive, if the doctors try a little harder they might be able to save him. She cried for the doctors begging them to look into him once again. Two nurses and a ward-boy came forward to hold her tight. The officer informed her that her brother was still breathing when he was brought to the hospital. But just 15 minutes before he breathed his last. Then he went on to show the other faces, faces of those who were her family. Whom she loved the most, whom she surely never wanted to meet like this. Her younger sister, her grandmother, and her Maa at the last. She cried like a baby hugging her mother’s body. The officer went on telling her something more, but all the worldly sounds started to fade away. Neither she could hear anything, nor was able to grasp the reality. After some time, she didn’t know how long she wept; she suddenly stood straight and asked the officer about her father. She claimed to see her father. He informed her that he was the only one who was still breathing although his condition was severely critical. He was admitted in the emergency department and was taken inside the OT. The doctors and surgeons are attending him. The nurses and the ward boy took her to the sitting area, offered her a glass of water which she inattentively denied. Then they handed over a form to sign. She could not even read a single letter, she just signed wherever they were instructing her. Within 15 minutes her uncle and aunt and her cousin brother arrived there. The police officers were still there waiting to finish the formalities. They informed them about the incident and the casualties and showed them the bodies. All those people who were very much alive even a day before and were as much important part of her life and existence as her own life, all of a sudden they became bodies!

Her uncle and aunt went up to the counter to do the payment formalities. Her cousin was calling the mortuary vehicles and talking to the police regarding body release and all. She was getting drifted away in some other reality, where she thought that all these are nothing but a horrific nightmare and things will just be fine as soon as she will wake up in the morning. She loved the thought so much that at the back of her mind she even started to believe that thought as true. She was already feeling numb; and now suddenly started to feel nauseated and was slowly losing her consciousness. A nurse came out with speeding pace; stood just in front of Sohini. The nurse thought that the girl had slept off because of tiredness and shock. She kept a hand softly on her shoulder and gently shook her awake. It gave her a start, she nodded confusingly. She was handed over a prescription signed by the operating doctor, asking her to fetch 2 bottle of O Negative blood. The nurse said that she needs to arrange the blood immediately, otherwise they might not be able to save her father’s life. She left the hospital immediately for the blood bank nearby. Her uncle and cousin also left for another two blood banks little far from the hospital.


4 hours before…

Around 11:05am, 28th May, the majestic GT Road lay like a giant serpent under the pitch black sky of new moon. A Maruti Zen, speeding from Durgapur to Kolkata. Mr. Roy, 58 years, was driving the car. Beside his driver’s seat his elderly mother, 77 years, Amala Devi was sitting. On the rear seat His wife Shreeparna, 55, was sitting with their daughter Shreyashi, 19, and only son Souvik, 15 on both the side. Both the kids were sleeping, leaning against their mother’s shoulder. The couple’s eldest daughter Sohini, 23, was not with them. She used to stay in Delhi then, working with an MNC as a software engineer. She flew back to Kolkata in the afternoon that day. The Roy family was actually going to Kolkata to meet a prospective groom’s family for Sohini’s marriage. The indicator of the speedometer was showing 70kmph. Mr. Ashok hoped they might be able to reach Kolkata before midnight. Engrossed in his own thoughts he didn’t realize that now the 4 lane road has changed into a single lane and loaded trucks and Lorries are coming with full speed from the opposite direction. With a sudden start he heard a shrill honk of a ten wheeler giant road liner in front of his Zen. And the next moment he was trying to maneuver the car more towards the left to get away from the wheeling giant. But it was already too late. The two moving vehicles collided head on, and the last sound Mr. Ashok heard was a blood curdling mixture of metallic thud and horrified shrieks coming out from the others inside the car. The giant wheeler pushed the half battered Zen a few yards back and forced to a halt with all ten tires screeching sharply against the concrete road. Smoke rose from the engine…


4am, Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose Emergency Blood Bank…

Sohini was standing on the other side of the counter, her slender body leaning against the counter wall to support her weight. She was holding one bottle of O- blood in her right hand; her left hand was still on the prescription indexing the sentence mentioned 2 bottles. The attendant on the other side of the counter was nodding his head helplessly, and muttering the same line again and again, that there was only one bottle there, he himself went and checked the storeroom. “Madam, you must know, how rare O Negative blood is to get, that too all of a sudden.” Sohini’s mind had taken so much in such a small span of time that she was beyond any reasoning. She found herself shouting over her voice which sounded hoarse even to her ears. She was mechanically pressing her mobile phone buttons to call her uncle for any news of one more bottle of O Negative blood. Her face muscles shagged after she heard the response from the other side. She is not going to let her father die on the operation table, not at least not because of blood deficiency. Her father, whose blood was throbbing in her heart, how can she let him die, till her lungs still pumping air out of her body? If so, she will compel the doctors to take the last drop of her own blood to save her father’s life. She forcefully pushed the thought out of her mind, paid the attendant for the one bottle of blood she managed to collect and rushed out of the blood bank. She called one taxi and headed towards NRS hospital.


5:05am, outside OT, Emergency Division, N.R.S. Hospital…

The morning sky was all getting dressed up with the reddish tint of the vermilion colored baby sun. Dr. Dibakar Banerjee, a veteran in surgery, who was operating her father, was trying to console her. Three mini vans were standing outside the hospital. Two of which were ready to leave with the four bodies. The third one was waiting for the last body. Sohini was sitting on her knees with her face pushed within her palms in front of her father’s dead body. A whole new surge of tears and helpless emotion was bursting out of her big eyes. Her whole world turned upside down within a few hours span. Her voice was already hoarser and all cracked because of pain and shock. Three four nurses, her uncle, aunt, cousin and a few kind hearted relatives of some other patients tried to lift her to sit on a chair. One nurse tried to give her a little water. Even the nurses’ eyes were wet with sympathy. There was only one thing which stood still in that chaos, the bottle of blood which she managed to collect, stood alone atop the counter in front of the emergency division. She was supposed to bring another bottle of blood. But her father solved the problem for her. He left this world before they could pump even the first bottle of blood in his body.

Sohini, 23, was sitting alone, on a chair, with no one of her family left for her to lend a shoulder to cry on. One single night, changed her whole world, her life changed forever…

Time passed by. She needed a change in her life. She applied for transfer. Her company transferred her to Bangalore a year later…


29th May 2012

10:00am, Infosys Campus, Electronic City, Bangalore

Sohini was sitting inside her cubicle. She had an invitation letter lying on her desk. She was playing with the envelope with her slender fingers inattentively. She just opened the envelope letter without any specific thought. Her eyes stuck on the word “blood donation”. She read the rest of the letter with a frown between her brows. When she managed to finish the invitation her eyes were already burning in pain. Suddenly her eyes fell on the table calendar, which was showing 28th May – she forgot to change the date after coming to office today. She felt a sharp pang in her heart reminding her the day – the very day. The day she will never forget, yet cannot remember exactly the time and chronology. It seems like a watermark etched deep in her mind. She mechanically stood on her heels and walked up to the water filter to have a little water. She tried to gather herself together. She had already decided to go for this blood donation camp. She asked her best friend Ashmita to come with her if she wished to do so. She told her where she was going. Ashmita came out with her. Both of them went to the blood donation camp at IFIM B School Campus. While lying on the camp bed with needle inserted in her hand, a sole thought kept haunting her mind, if only she could give her blood to her father, if only her father would have given her a little more time to fetch the other bottle of blood, if only….

She thought, her blood might be able to save a life. At least it will be able save a father and a daughter, if not her’s. A single tear droplet rolled down the corner of her eye, she felt relieved…





*** This one i wrote for my college magazine. My first humble try to write a story. The theme of the story is partly imaginary and partly based on some true incidents happened in the past. ***