Dreams of October

October’s Blog-o-sphere Think Tank topic: “Seasonal shifts….Do you enjoy the changing of the seasons?”

The season is changing. Some days, the heat sears through the skin. On other nights, the cold chills the bone. My nights are restless, mostly from unpleasant dreams. I lie awake till exhaustion consumes me. The eyes always feel dull…they haven’t laughed in a long time. Darkness beckons.

He was always big, in stature and in ego. I often thought of him as a large inflated balloon, gaping at works of art with his mouth wide open…at a complete loss of words.
He had unsuccessfully tried setting up his own business. His father had to intervene eventually. That must have humbled him; always so sensitive about not being able to make it on his own.

And then his son was born…not all man would he ever be.

This large man, with his large pride, cowered and cried in the dark till he was limp, not from sorrow but sore from bruised pride. His wife must have rubbed him, and massaged him…and bathed him in oils, prodding him on, all day, everyday, till he was ready to face the world again…with this son, not all man.

Suddenly, he turned to me…this priest of smallness, sermonizing…must have a wife to massage and art that can only be hobby.

It is Diwali. The noise deafens me. I try to run but my leg is wrapped up with fire crackers. My mother’s face is lit with spite. She holds the other end of the rope as she lights the crackers. I break into cold sweat. My heart is pounding madly. It will break through my flesh any moment now.
Is it a dream?…It is a dream! It is a dream!
Then why can’t I wake up?..Wake up. Wake up!

My eyes open. The silence is pitch dark. I lie paralyzed.

And here’s the brooch that was inspired by this month’s blog post…or was it the other way ’round.