It did not start with Her.
The part with Nani constituted only about the last 20% of the stretch of the dream. Of the rest, I remember just about 5%. The remaining was dumped in the endless pile of forgotten dreams….
The bus was supposed to be moving in an urban centre, but the surroundings appeared rural. Similar to most of the bus rides I have had in my dreams, I felt hostility and antipathy from others. For some reason, people were mean to me.
The bus broke down at one point. I, and the other passengers moved out and roamed about searching for snacks and tea to kill time.
Somehow, while wandering about the area, I unexpectedly found myself in the vicinity of my Nani’s home in Hajipur. It seemed an exciting prospect to stay in a big house with a doting grandmother and the whole day to burn.
In the real-world, I know it’s a lonesome endeavour, with only the lure of Nani’s fabulous cooking in its favour. I have experienced disappointment in such set-ups in the past.
Anyways, dreams are strange creatures. They can be overtly romantic at instances, and inordinately gruesome in other occasions.
I didn’t call her to inform I was coming. This was another example of the oddity of dreams; and not my deliberate attempt to surprise her.
Nani lived with a helper. That was the world-building my brain did for me. It was assumed that Nana Ji was dead.
There were some patches of time after his demise- in real life- when Nani got to live in the huge house, all by herself. However, most of her days, in this period, were spent in her sons’ homes in Patna and Ranchi.
She complained she felt she had not lived in her home for sufficient enough time. The house was built around 1990. So, by 2015 (or so), whether she got to spend too little time in her abode, or otherwise, is a matter of perspective. I suppose for a person of her age, it probably was not enough.
All arguments in this regard are meaningless. If she felt she had not spent enough time there, she had not.
Just two people lived in the house, after Fuldev Mamu (the resident helper) left for Bangalore. Still, it was like Nani lived with two entities, Nana Ji and the house itself. Her day was spent taking care of these two indolent outfits, one who would not move, the other which could not.
Hence when people told her not to spend days alone in Hajipur, she was not very pleased. They asked her if her children didn’t want her to live with them. Of course, they did, she would say. How dare you make such a suggestion; she must have thought. It’s not that I’m not wanted, but more about what I want.
No place like home. She could live there as she pleased. There are some unsaid ethos, rules and practices in every household. A guest has to acclimatize to them. Of course, she wanted to live in the blanket of her own lifestyle, her own way of things and her own routine.
She hurt herself once, when she slipped and fell (I am not very sure about the details). Then on, she had to live with her children, and almost bid goodbye to her dear home.
The relationship between her and her abode was not what I intended to focus (so much) on, surely not in such detail. This was about the dream. Here it goes…..
The door was not latched from inside, I entered without having to ask permission. The maid was downstairs, in the main bedroom, doing something I didn’t care about. Nani was not on the ground floor.
I went upstairs. There I saw Nanhe Mamu’s room filled with ingredients and finished products to be used for Chhath Puja. So this room was the new chaste prasad and samagri preparation kitchen now.
I kept searching for her, but she was not in the bathroom, Puja room or the veranda. Where was she?
I went back downstairs, and found her in the kitchen. This was the first instance I had met her after her passing, so be it in a dream. It was a special moment for me (in real life. In the dream she was still alive. Evidently people become more special after they die).
It was a much-required respite. In the past few weeks, I have not had any good dream. They were all stressful. Each one contained scenarios where I was struggling, and losing.
I don’t remember if she was delighted to see me or not (in the dreamland). In real life, Nani wanted dearly for us to visit Hajipur, and she did all she could think of for our comfort and entertainment. She was a wonderful host.
She also was an extraordinary guest. Her heart was so accommodative, her words so positive, and her presence so energetic and brilliant, everyone loved her.
The lovelier they are, the harder their absence hits us. She was the closest person to my mother. They spoke every day, about all the things in their own spheres. Her passing was especially hard on her.
For me, she was the most extraordinary person I ever knew. She was an angel on earth. I am sure everyone who knew her misses her.
She was probably worried about me, given my pains in the real world. Of course, she knew.
Even as it was late in the evening, we went out for what seemed like vegetable shopping. In this alternate realm, we were crossing a terrain shaped like tea gardens in sloping hills. How Nani was climbing those vertical steep steps was beyond me. I found it difficult catching up with her.
On the way up, I met three Bong friends from Pune. We were meeting after an age. What a coincidence that we happened to be in Hajipur at the same time, we all agreed. After a few pleasantries, we parted.
In the next sequence, she wanted to take me somewhere. We rode on top of the head of a giraffe-like creature. It felt like we were 50-60 feet off of the ground. It was a turbulent and chaotic ride and I wondered how we didn’t slip and fall down. Even if we had fallen, we would have survived. I have ridden such creatures in the past.
We reached our destination, a temple. It was probably a Hanuman Ji temple, as the interior walls of the room carrying the Idol were painted in saffron. She asked me to pray. The place felt extremely pure and calming. Years of puja and prayer make some temples replete with positivity.
I prayed. She stood there beside me, praying herself……..
Was it a signal of some sort? Was she guiding me towards something? Was my mind trying to tell me something?
Any which ways it was precious. I got to experience her presence after an age. As always, she was doing her best for the benefit of those close to her.
In my case, it was to pray for my swift and sustained recovery, for me to have the best quality of life, and as the ones closest to us wish for us- that we get everything we desire.
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