Sunday 7 December 2014

Dreams: a train ride to a parallel world, and a strange breakfast

A train ride to a parallel world
This dream starts with an awareness that I am going to catch a train.

I see that my companion for the journey is T, one of the SRMOs that I worked with previously. We are walking along a road lined by old tall houses that look like the Dutch houses lining the canals of Amsterdam. The time is early evening, and the light is gentle but steadily fading.

We come to an unmarked entrance to a train station and look at the noticeboards but it's not clear which platform our train is on. We already have tickets in our pockets, so we ride on the first escalator down, which then leads to another and another and another. It seems like the escalators are never ending, and the train station must be at the centre of the earth. As we descend the air feels increasingly stale, and the atmosphere becomes somewhat claustrophobic.

Finally we come to the bottom of the escalators and emerge onto a platform. There are dozens of platforms stretching as far as we can see, but we cannot see any sign showing which platform we are actually standing on. 

All around us are crowds of people, carrying all sorts of luggage from fancy suitcases to big rice sacks. T and I discuss where to go for a while, and we decide that we must need to catch a train to the correct platform. At that moment an ancient looking train pulls up - it has only two carriages so we assume that must be the inter-platform train.

Inside the carriage it is almost completely dark. The overwhelming smell of humans, animals and excrement hits us like a wave. So many people are packed into the carriage that I lose T immediately, and I scramble amongst the people trying to find her, but it is so dark I cannot make out any faces. I think suddenly that we must be on a third class carriage in India, and so we must be going somewhere in India?

The train stops at several places but the mass of humanity prevents me from seeing what platform it is. I get the ticket out of my pocket and struggle to read it in the dark. The price is "134,00R" and the platform on it is 17, but still there's no way for me to tell where that might be.

I stumble off the train at a random stop and stand, blinking in a completely different type of light. T is not here, and the platform is almost completely deserted. I walk up and down the platform looking for her, but I see only a few solo travellers and a family with several small children. I realise that perhaps the train has gone and T has already gone on the train thinking I might be on it. I sit down on a bench and contemplate what to do next.

Suddenly, Elsie comes up to me and says what are you doing here? I am elated to see her and ask what she is doing here. She grabs my hand and says - let's take a photo together, so we can remember we were here! I tell her that I am looking for my friend and ask her if she has seen anyone that looks like her. She ignores me and asks an old lady nearby to take a photo of us.

We are standing under a dull lamppost, emitting a weak pool of orange light. The photo is snapped and we thank the old lady. Elsie looks at the photo and exclaims look!

In the photo Elsie and I are standing amidst a lush green field, which stretches as far as we can see. I struggle to put together the reality of the train station and the photograph of the beautiful field.

Then the alarm wakes me, and the dream is no more.


A strange breakfast
This dream starts in my living room. The time is early morning, perhaps around 7am. A few friends are lazing around on the couches and another few are seated at the round glass dining table. As far as I can see, it is really my living room from real life.

I have forgotten the topic of discussion at the beginning, but we soon start talking about breakfast. I open the fridge and there are random bits of food stuffed inside. I take out a box of leftover noodles, then some cold rice and pickles, then bread. People rise from their random places of lounging and take food to eat. I open the weet-bix and take the muesli out of the cupboard. The halwa and honey are liberally spread on toast.

I look over at my friends and everyone is nibbling on something except for CC. She sits on the chair closest to the fridge, legs crossed, a vacant expression on her face.

What would you like to eat? I ask her.
I don't know, she replies.

I open the fridge again and inside there is almost nothing left. There is an onion in the vegetable crisper, an assortment of sauces, and a single ruby grapefruit on the top shelf. I take out the grapefruit and inspect it - it is an excellent specimen with an exuberant skin and a deep fragrant smell. I hand it to her and she hands it back without saying anything.

I start to peel the grapefruit and cut it into segments on a plate. Then suddenly she says - don't you know? I have an eating disorder where I cannot take big bites of anything.

I look down at the segments and think for a moment whether she is saying they are too large to eat. 

She says, more emphatically, C has the same eating disorder, you know, what do you think she is going to eat now?

Then I wake up.

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