The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of

Sorry to disappoint Shakespeare fans but this post isn’t about Tempest or Shakespeare-isms (not that am not a fan of him). But this is a mindless post about my crazy dreams. So if you’re not interested, please stop reading now itself. I wont mind one bit ūüôā

While for most people, imagination is what fuels their consciousness and cognition, in my ¬†case its only ever active (or rather over-active) in my dreams. When I’m awake, imagination rarely comes to my aid :(.¬†But put me to sleep and my subconscious teams up with Mr. Imagination and everything that I’ve seen or read or thought during the day gets crazily linked up in one dream. Somehow, my high-school is always the setting of my dreams where I meet people from all around the world and where stupid¬†things happen.¬†Once upon a time, I used to waste my limited brainspace trying to analyze them¬†but¬†now I just laugh them out with my friends and family ūüôā ¬†

I had one such crazy dream yesterday¬†and to explain its origin – I saw Sholay on the TV last night :). ¬†The location, as usual, is my high school…

In one of the classrooms, I have some interns and new-hires from my office. I’m taking their¬†induction along with a very senior member from my office. After the “class”, the senior member calls me aside and says lets arrange for tea for everyone in the upcoming break so that we can have an informal ice-breaker session. So we go to the canteen which looks like the admissions department of a hospital. The lady at the cashier’s is wearing a nurse uniform and in a matronly voice shooed us ¬†off saying we cant arrange for 30 cups of tea in 15 minutes.

Hence, the senior official decides to buy cold drinks, while me, the over-zealous organizer, decides to go out of the school compound to look for a tea vendor. As soon as I step out, voila, I meet Mr. Bachchan… He just happens to be standing outside in the scorching heat looking majestic and a little sweat-drenched in an old t-shirt and jeans. When I see him,¬†my first reaction¬†to him isn’t “OMG”, its – “Do you know anyone who can provide me 30 cups of tea in 10 mins?” Him being the gentleman, he takes me around the back, where Dharmendra is sitting in a dilapidated building on a dilapidated “jhulla” whistling away to glory. Mr. Bachchan calls out, “Veeru… dya know wherez our chai-wala. There’s an emergency here” and I’m astonishined to see him address Dharmendra like that so¬†I¬†ask him “After all these years of Sholay.. you still call each other Jai and Veeru?” But before he can answer, Veeru shouts, “Jai, run and take cover… Gabbar is here”

So we rush into the school building as we are being bombarded with bullets. ¬†We run into my classroom and as soon as we enter, there is a hush in the room and since everyone is staring at me and Mr. Bachchan alternatively, I just blurt out, “I couldn’t find tea, so I brought Mr. Amitabh Bachchan with me.”

Before anyone could say anything, my alarm went off and my groggy self was trying to make sense of the fading image of Amitabh Bachchan in my head.

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