Time:
5.20 a.m.

Subject of the Dream:
Rushing To Schools

Details:
I was in the old wooden house in Binjal, before it was torn apart for a new single-storey bungalow. I was maybe 15 years old, judging from the scenarios in the house, which details I could recall so vividly. Everyone in the family was rushing in the morning, all woke up at the same time. Everybody tooked turns, waiting patiently for their turns for the old, dark, half-equipped, non-flushed, manual, third-world toilet. Everybody shared the same bathroom; father was there, my cousin (out of nowhere) was there, and my mother, not so surprisingly, was there too. I was the last one. So, I was late school.

It made no sense to me. This dream, and the other dreams I have continuously had in the middle of the night, has driven me crazy. They made me sad, scared, confused and tired. Usually, I don’t remember the dreams when I wake up in the mornings, and maybe I will recall later in a particular situation as a kind of dejavu. Or maybe I remember a little the moment I open my eyes from sleep, and later forget the whole thing after I get into my busy life.

But lately, these dreams keep disturbing my emotions; I could recall them so clearly. I don’t understand them. I wish someone with good dream interpretation could tell me what those dreams are for – what signs, what suggestions, what intentions - that could be of any use to me. I met Budiman, my colleague, and asked for his opinions.

“Did someone in your dream talk to you?” said he.
“Mm… I am not sure,” I answered, “may be they were talking or may be they weren’t. Why? Does it matter?”
“Oh yes, hell they do.”
He gave me that intelligent look.
I was impatient and said, “So what if they really talk?”
“Then, then they were Satans”
I was taken aback by his revelation.
“And if they don’t talk, they were Angels?” I said.
“Depends.”
“Depends? Come on. Can you tell me what it is? Here is another one. I was on top of the building. Suddenly I saw, far from the distance, a giant ice broke into pieces, turned into great flood, and all of the sudden, there were great tidal waves, splashing the whole buidings, taking all people’s lives, except me. I could see the devastation all around me. And I was on top there, scared and alone. So, what is this? Tsunami the second? And I am sure nobody talked.”
Budiman was silent. He said:

“May be you should see a psychiatrist.”

Having had various preplexing dreams almost every night, I always make sure that I take all the precautions not to get into one of those nighmares. And I make sure that I am sleeping with air sembahyang taken, feet washed, du’a said, and mind cleared. But those wild images keep coming.

Maybe they are just dreams. Or maybe they are not. Depends.