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’