My Dream

One more weary morning straight on my face. Why dear orange ball? Doesn't your neck hurt monotonously rising from east every single day. Oh sorry, I forgot you don't have neck you just have a huge round tummy. Oh damn it! you are heating my pillows as usual. I hate you!

Then as usual I leave the oven and went to brush my teeth. Then, I waited for the call from my love. After a crisp 2 min talk, I got into my daily chores and then started for my office. I boarded one of those cuboids which faltered its way through the half eggs and the radially cut thin sliced fruits – which people call scooters. I finally alighted to office. After being perfectly lackey and servile I was adieu-ed by the sardonic smiles from my colleagues when I was leaving the office. Searching for a human soul I started walking to the bus stop.

Here comes the twist in my day – the turning point of this story. "My lord! please save that child. She is completely trapped under the Double-Decker bus." Now I felt half eggs were much better than cuboids. Sorry two cuboids one above another. "Hey hey Mr egg behind the cuboid where are you going?" And boom! It hit the gas plant. Now I ran for my life to save myself from the huge explosion. After this dual twist I was curious to know the climax. After reaching home I switched on my favorite brainy flash box.
8 people killed. They started showing the faces of those unfortunate souls.
A girl trashed. And there I was taken aback. That girl was me. NO NO NO not possible.
I ran around screaming "I am not dead. I am alive". I came out to check with my parents only to find them sobbing uncontrollably. My grandpa was consoling my mom. My uncle was getting my details from the hospital. I shouted "I am not dead!!! I am alive". But no one paid heed to me. They just passed through me. "Oh! what is happening. My lord please untangle this commotion." I called up my love only to find him broken. He also couldn't hear me. "I am not dead. I am alive. I am vivid. I am alive!!!"

People came back to house only more heart-broken. Now things started going into my conscience. "I am dead." But still I went to office only to find in-scent sticks and flowers and bouquets at my desk. Then back at home friends with flowers and colleagues with cards everyone more melancholic than other. My sister was lost in the scent of my clothes and was soaking them with her big fat tears. My love was dispirited, crestfallen. I felt down in dumps after seeing the plight of them. The truth sipped through the lenticles of my brain. I started accepting the truth.

Then came my burial day. Everyone was dressed in black. But I got into the best dress. I felt the sunshine for the first time. I felt the warm breeze, saw the delicate flowers blossom, dew drops on the tender leaves, caterpillars making their way through the lush green and finally rainbow completing the skyline. Nothing could have been better than this. I reached the destination. I felt the love of my parents. I saw the selfless love of my true friends. My love was more lost in my thoughts than in anything else. He was left with just a few drops of blood and water with all the glucose gone with me. Lost in his love, I suddenly saw my mother running towards me out of the crowd.
My life. Why did you go? You are my soul how can you leave before me. She hugged me and in the ultimate ecstasy and joy, she fainted.

I was dead but I was equally lucky to take a second birth. I was lucky that I got the chance to see the world again but with a different eye. I wish to make every moment count. Every friend counts. Now I got up from the graveyard and gave the first beautiful hug to my sick mother and then to my father. I gave a beautiful gown to my sister, which she longed for since long. Then, I got gifts for my true friends, few hand-made cakes for my best buddies at office and finally took my hubby to the best date which I could plan.

That night I checked out the place where I was thrashed. Now I could do nothing better than thank the person for tamping me. Thanked that soul for giving me this opportunity. After all, it was that soul which helped me come out of that sloppy life and the even more sloppy dream. You made the difference. Every thing looks much better. Every second is joy. Every friend and soul around is like a part sharing my soul. Whether you are an ant or a giraffe trying to longer its neck, whether you are in an half egg or an half broken egg, you make an impact. Your mind gives you a choice. There are people who care for you and want to be cared. With this I wake up from the long dream and felt the warmth of the orange ball. When are you waking up from your dream??