Skip to main content

I Dream of India -- Writer's Poke #444

One of my fantasies is to visit India in July.

I dream it to be, well, hotter than hell. The upside to that, of course, is less tourists.

I dream it to be dirty, and I dream it to be crowded, and I dream it to be poor. On the other hand, I dream it to be the opposite of those things, too.

I dream of India because I have never been there, and I honestly have no idea what it’s like.

Why dream of India? Fair question, dear reader, but do you have control over what dreams invade your sleep at night? Neither do I, and neither do I have control, really, over what I dream about when I’m awake.

It’s a cliché to say that life’s a dream, but behind the cliché is at least some truth. While I dream of India from miles away, other people have taken the leap to experience their dreams in person. What do they see when they arrive in the place once only dreamt upon? Does the reality live up to the dream, or is the reality simply an extension of the dream – experienced as life, but actually no different from the dream itself?

How does one “experience” the dream? I’ve been places. Not India, but other places. My experiences in these places are now housed in memories. If memories are not enough, I have pictures on my computer to show me that I was there, and these pictures compete with memory. Both inform my experience, but both are incomplete, often providing alternative narratives of what I would like to designate as “reality.” Maybe I should go back to these places to see for myself, but going back is impossible. Perhaps, then, I should just go to sleep. Let the questions of memory and experience and reality fade into nothingness – until the visions of India rise out of nowhere once more, tempting me to create stories of reality from my places of fantasy.

Where do your dreams take you?

“Without a dream you’ll not get anywhere.” – Kofi Annan


  1. My dreams take me to nowhere, they only advise me, I guess. I often dream about this girl, who owned my heart for some time, I just stoped talking to her. And I guess that my super-ego says to me while i'm asleep (sorry for being that unfashionable), that I should've at least said "good bye."


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Summer Day Trip #1: Caledonia, Minnesota

The Wired Rooster Coffee Shoppe -- Caledonia, Minnesota

I've lived in Minnesota for over ten years, sure, but that doesn't mean I've actually seen much of the state. Like most people, I know what I know, and I go where I go. And that's the extent of it. But once I resigned myself to the fact that I wasn't going to make it to Alaska this summer, it occurred to me that I had plenty of sites to explore in the immediate region.

First stop: Caledonia, Minnesota. Where's that? It's a small town in the southeast corner of the state. Before I opened my Rand McNally Road Atlas, I had never heard of it, and before I punched the town name into Trip Advisor, I didn't know if there was anything there worth visiting.

Distance from home: About 75 miles.

Challenge #1: Leaving by 6:30 a.m.

Challenge #2: Taking my dog, Atticus.

Actually, Atticus is a good dog on a road trip, but the forecast indicated that it was going to get into the 90s. I wanted to leave early in the …