Fighting social injustice in my dream

I struggled a little bit to get out of bed this morning. Why you ask? Oh its just because I was up saving lives in my dreams last night.

Dreams are a funny lil thang. They offer you entertainment, moral lessons, creepy feelings and sometimes leave you with feeling rather bewildered. This certainly was the case for me this morning with my dream from last night.

So…….. Myself, my 2 sisters, and someone else (might have been my cousin) were at a family/family friends’ house party that was right beside our house. We were all high school children and had an exam the next day (😐). In the tiny room that we were hanging out there was another girl who was of a similar age to us. She dressed differently and looked different from us. She had a scarf over head with some jewellery covering her forehead. One of my crew members got talking to her and learnt that she was from some part of Africa. The girl was taken away from her home and was forced to become someones bride. Her ‘prospective groom’ was somewhere in the house, a face that she might have never seen before and a man probably born atleat 15 or 20 years before she did.

When I got up to leave the house party and go back to my house (to do the revision I am sure :/), one of my crew members asked me ‘why dont you take ‘her’ with you as well?’

Nothing was said. We thought of well devised plans to sneak her out of the house through the back way without any adults seeing us. And we did. With great difficulty ofcourse (mainly because of her anklets that were really noisy). We gave her a big tub of celebrations for the road (that definitely would be plenty to last till Africa!). This took all night apparently and we ended up getting back home at 8ish the next morning (missing the exam ofcourse!).

We look over to the house next to us where the party was held and see that the celebrations lid was lying on the ground. We go into the house, and see our father standing in the hall way. I say to him that the exam was hard and walk away. He suspects nothing. Next thing I know, my middle sister who is not as talented as i am in lying or being sneaky says to him that she heard his friends new child bride got away with a tub of celebrations last night! 😑. He looks bewildered.

We go to our room. And i say we need to come up with our responses to this and learn the same thing so we wont say anything different to the adults.

Fast forward to the climax (or slow forward); its the 16th century where me and my sisters were dressed in white and head all shaven traveling in a vehicle to the house where the party was held. We were being punished because we were women who did something horrible?! 😑

They open the door and let us in. We see the girl we tried to rescue standing there. She got caught half way. They lock the door behind us. She smiles at us. And l smile back thinking dyamnnn we gonna have a goòd time here!!!.

Conclusion:

1. Child marriage, exams, illtreatment towards women- Not acceptable to Archana Mathew.

2. Archana Mathew’s dreams should be made into movies and nominated for Oscar.

The End.

For real.

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I had a dream

So I had a dream lastnight.

And unlike Martin Luther king, I dreamt about travelling to space along with my husband on a banana boat. 

Now, to get yourself going, you just have to get thrown up in the air (no trouble!). So the journey is long and tricky and it takes days to travel through the dark empty sky on a banana boat. But we presevere. And at one point, i look up and see trillions of stars up above. I look at my husband and say ‘Im so grateful that you are here’. And the next thing we know is that we are starting to float in the air. Gravitys lost (!). Loving every moment of it till the moment is finished and we are back on earth in a dark shady corner. 

A lady in white coat (insert wtf*) tells us my parents were in the space ahead of us and they will be around looking for us. We decide to get ourselves back up in the air on the banana boat lets not forget. Off we go again. Same journey. Same outcome.

After a few times, we end up indulging in a lot of rather unusual but apparently necessary rituals to get ourselves back up in the air. This involves a horse biting someones looong bundle of hair and then me taking the hair bundle off its mouth, circling it and throwing it up in the air(insert wtf* x 2).

‘Are you getting up?’ I hear the voice of my space voyage partner at 6am and my space journey comes to an end.

I will never know what happened after i threw the hair in the air but lets just hope that we ended up in space and reunited with my parents.

The end.

‘You may say I’m a dreamer

But I’m not the only one

I hope someday you will join us

And the world will be as one’

Non-titled post 

I’m not giving any titles to this post as no title would be appropriate for the confusing, complicated and perhaps inevitable thoughts that come with that one dreadful word that I can’t keep away from: ‘Life’.

Life.

Four simple, straightforward letters.

But the meaning?

Not so simple or straightforward is it?

Now, I know when I was given Life,

But I know not when I started living Life.

Is it time, is it age, ot is it the stages that signifies Life?

Or the feelings that you know of or not know of?

The questions I can never find answers to,

The answers I can never find satisfaction with,

Makes me feel lost of the very same dreaded word.

I breath.

I see.

I feel

And I learn

But that’s not all what Life is, is it?

I dream

I yearn

I try

And I wish

Then again, that’s not all there is, is it?

I must surrender

To the Four simple, straightforward letter,

That does not ever give me a simple, straightforward definition.

To Life,

Yours.

Life Motto Revelations

It’s often difficult to take new steps in life. I’ve been dying to get myself back into dance this year. It was getting to the stage where it was shameful to think, never mind say to someone, that I once used to do some dancing. I lack confidence on the dance floor and find it easier to just say ‘I suck at dance’ and just do my usual chicken dancing. But today, I went for my first dance lesson. I was rather anxious to go there, dance, meet new people etc.  Life motto No 1: ‘If the thought of doing something makes you nervous, do exactly just that.’ I did just that and I’m glad I did.

Now the dancing lesson was intense and I somehow managed bits n bobs. It did not improve my dancing or confidence right away, and I don’t know if it ever will (although I’m hoping it will otherwise world will be a darker place with my chicken dance!). What it did do was make me reiterate my life motto no 2: ‘be what you want to be’ and implement it. I did just that and I’m glad I did.

Endless Love part 3

Ok so heres the last part (meh I took long!)
The man I’m going to talk next is someone who made me think a lot. When I met him, he was unshaven, had cold and emotionless eyes and looked very grumpy. I observed him everyday. He wore the same clothes everyday, was angry all the time,  and apparently was violent to staff. It was indeed with a bit of fear that I approached  him at first. Needless to say that we got on just fine. He, for some reasons didnt talk much (may be its because I never gave him a chance) but I knew that he enjoyed my company. And then one day, when we were sitting in the lounge room, he pointed at couple of paintings that were hung there and said to me that he drew them. I went to myself  ‘yeah right, his dementia is bad’ but said to him ”That is absolutely gorgeous, I wish I was that talented’.

He kept on going about this for sometime. Therefore, I decided to check this with the head nurse. To which, she replied ‘did you not know? He is one of THE most famous artist in Scotland’. Apparently, his paintings are kept in almost all the famous museums in Scotland. He had received tremendous amount of recognition for his amazing work and used to train Prince Harry/Williams (I forgot about this one!)

I couldn’t believe any of these. The way he was made it impossible for me to believe it. Nevertheless, I had asked him to draw something for me. I promised him that I  will keep it safe for ever. With a little reluctance, he took the paper and pencil off my hand. He started drawing. I giggled a bit when I realised he was drawing me. He completed the picture but when I looked at it I didn’t see a  picture of me. It kind of looked like a doodle of a 3 year old. But it was enough for me. I jotted something on the back of it, dated + timed it and kept it safe in my purse as promised.

The three parts of Endless Love had one thing in common: Eternal and Endless Love. In Endless one, the man had Eternal and Endless love for his best friend, Endless 2 was about a couple who had Endless and Eternal love for each other…and Endless 3 was about a man who had Endless and Eternal love for his passion. He gave up everything for it and it was everything for him. Although his dementia caused him to forget about everything else in his life, he never once forgotten about what was important to him: his passion for drawing. Due to his deteriorating mental and physical health, he was incapable of taking a pencil and drawing the beautiful world he used to be familiar with. His world was not so beautiful any more. It is dark and that was the main reason why he was agitated and angry. But instead of frowning upon it like every other staff did, I admired him for that. Although he realised that there was no way for him to be like how he was before, he still fought. He still dared to take that pencil off me and draw, he becomes angry with people who don’t try to understand him, his passion!
I hope I get to be like him one day and be utterly passionate about my dreams and passion.
I do not know if he’s still in this world or the other world…but here’s to the most inspiring and courageous man I have met in my life. Paying respect to you wherever you are!

Ps: I still have the pic he drew for me in my purse. If one day, I ever figure out how to + be bothered (I don’t sound very passionate there do I? ;)}about putting that up here, I will