The heat wakes me up early,
Torrid orange-yellow glow drifts in through the swaying, thin curtains.
The heat that wakes me up early is a kind of unknown warning.
The heat stops my aimless journey with fake dreams as consorts.
I touch her hand gently.
The heat is driving me to rewind and review.
The heat is the template on which my review workflow starts.
I am rolling, rewinding,
Like an innocent lithe figure running in one direction and the parallel frame running in the opposite direction.
You don’t know who is running to where.
It is the heat that is waking me early and making my eyes burn.
The house was empty. but there was someone inside.
Our entry into that house was interesting. I could not remember through which door I went inside. It was the living room.
The room was well-lit and the angle presented was like a tilted camera. The room was empty.
We moved into the next room from a door at the center. Someone was standing frightened in the room’s corner. My grandmother said something and the shabby figure did not answer back.
The dream ended. I was left wondering what that figure was doing in that house. The house that I grew up.
A narrow road. To the left is either a pole or a stick standing a bit awkward to the left. Behind leaves on tendrils.
There is something on that pole or stick. A sign board, may be. On it, a half-drawn circle and a cross.
Just before I woke up, I remembered my home where I grew up. I, the poor boy!
Can you know the exact moment when you fell asleep last night? There is a difference between the fact that you decided to sleep, you lied down on the bed, you took a newspaper or a book to read, or you called your mother. But when did you really start the sleeping process that reveals only when you wake up sometime in the night, or in the morning.
At what exact moment did you fall into sleep from being awake?