I ask you to stand firm in your hope! Stand firm in your love! Amen!
Pope Benedict XVI in Krakow, Poland, Saturday May 27, 2006
I have always been a dreamy lad. Those white fluffy clouds in sleepless eyes. It makes me go bonkers at times and yet prods me to carry on amidst all the lovelessness. Impulsive and illusory. That has been my story thus far. I can’t seem to clearly remember when I mingled the delicate dash between infatuation and love in my mind. I’ve been flying too swift to notice that. Occasional gusts tossed me up in the sky but the flight didn’t end. It glided on. Till Saturday. I reckon, around the same time the celibate Ratzinger was visiting Poland and he said the words,” Stand firm in your love”. It stirred a magical cord in me. My bowels asked me to follow my heart. I was led to a dream.
My angel. Or was it a fairy. I have been thinking of this angel ever since I was a kid.
I dreamt a beautiful dream. I was transported to a surreal land. It was full of wonderful people with lovey-dovey eyes. I was suffused over by pure unadulterated love. Tomes of it. It made me realize that there is only one happiness in life, to love and be loved. I clearly rejoiced in the ceaseless love. Only a little laughter broke the spell sporadically.
It was hot. Heat of the plains. I could smell heat even in the brief, compendiary bits I slept. For the first time in my life, I loved the laconic spell of my sleep. God, how I love the feeling. How the countdown to our next reunion almost immediately triggered. Is it a bond? Is this what they call love? I donno. It was a dream, that is for sure. The beat that my heart misses every time the images flicker in my mind. Blue-blooded-elegance. The calm eyes. The emaciated feet. The purple glow in the brow.
Imagine raw sensuality. What I do and what I dream include thee, as the wine must taste of its own grapes as they say. The maxim haunted me since ages. It was right next to me in my dream. When Jhelum flowed into the Chinab river. When heat ceased to exist. When sweaty hugs felt better than a million perfumes. When I didn’t want the smells to go – perhaps for the first time in my life -- and did not use my expensive colognes in a long time. It was a cross between hope and love. Betwixt desire and longing. It felt like crying after a long time stunned. Drinking after a lifetime’s thirst.
There are times when you forget the bed. You also forget the pillow. You share the warmth. Despite the stingy harshness of the summer. You want to hide the relation in camouflage of the darkness. The shadows. There is a name hidden in the shadow of my soul, where I read it night and day. It is a feeling I will nestle in my little heart for long. A very special feeling. Like a bird who comes from cold hills and perches on top of my palm. And cooes most sweetly.
My alarm went off. The dream broke.
It is another day.