dreams, reminiscing, drawing parallels 2 – mean girls

ok, get a seat, get relaxed, whatever, this is going to be a really long post (i’m predicting).

First! A couple of nights ago, i had a really weird dream. Unfortunately, I couldn’t blog about it the following day because i was busy doing school related things. Anyway, here i am all ready to spill my guts about the dream. This one i specifically told myself to remember; even the minute details. And there’s no analysis; i can’t think of anything to analyze, it’s quite a peculiar dream. So here goes!

I was standing in the ground level of a building. The building reminded me of the building i used to get tutored in during my high school days, or a building similar to that. There was a stone bench along the length of the building and i believe i was waiting to go up to my tuition teacher’s apartment. All along the bench though, were students from my current educational institution. There were at least 50 of them all sitting in a straight line on the stone bench, all waiting to go up for tuition. As i walked the length of the building, past the stone bench, i recognized a few faces as freshmen from my current university. They were faces i know but i’m quite sure they don’t know me. A certain someone was among those faces. (Yes, *that* person)

Anyway, none of the people who met eyes with me, said hi to me. But i could tell that they also knew me by my face and hence knew of my existence. So if this was occurring in real life, it would qualify as an ‘uncomfortable situation’ and I would whip out my handphone and start smsing myself. But it was a dream, so i didn’t do that. I just walked all the way till the end of the building and turned around to look at the same people again and the whole length of people sitting on the stone bench.

Then suddenly! from the first level of the neighboring building, there was the sound of a group of children/people singing. The buildings were not partitioned so we all could hear it and could also see into the house on the first level through their balcony. Instinctively, all the people who i had just met eyes with walked over to the balcony and started to look into the house. We (me included) stood at the ground level staring into the house. The weird thing was, it didn’t look like a normal house. The ceilings were very high and from below (where we were) it looked like the ceiling of a concert hall. The balcony that we were looking into also resembled a stage and on this ’stage’ were 5 or 6 young performers.

They were doing a combination of singing and acrobatics. There were no words to their song, just melody and music. Some of them were contorting their bodies while singing and it was mesmerizing to watch their performance. Towards the end, the youngest performer – a young girl, probably a toddler, was singing in a very high pitched voice. Weirdly enough, she was sitting in a steel vessel and singing a somewhat bittersweet ’song’.

The oldest performer then started tossing her up into the air. She was still sitting in the steel vessel and she kept getting tossed up – almost high enough to touch the concert hall ceiling. At the highest points, her song because even more high pitched than normal. The oldest performer did this about 8 or 9 times and at one point, there was even a possibility that the toddler would be dropped or would slip out of the vessel. Every time he tossed her up in the air, we were all anxious for her safety but he always manged to catch her on the way down.

I woke up soon after the ‘performance’ ended.

Yup so that was my dream, make whatever you want out of it, coz i sure as hell don’t know what to think of it!

Second! Today was an amazingly fun day! haha! I went over to my friend’s house and had a fantastic lunch followed by a really fun ‘cooking’ session. I made one of my favorite street foods from Bombay (Pani Puri) and i’m really glad that it came out quite like the way i used to eat it at home. I’m also glad that my friends enjoyed making and eating it.

Making the various sauces and assembling all the ingredients gave me a sort of flash back to my old days back home and i realized how much i want to go back in December. I can’t wait! haha! It was a really good experience and it also gave me some hope, strangely enough. I feel comforted when i remember the nice things from my past. And recently at least, i really like reminiscing about the past – those times i did such and such thing and those other times when i did that other stuff. Yes, all those memories give me a lot of comfort when i’m feeling down.

Last! On the bus ride home, again, like the last time i took that bus, I started to think a lot. Just random thoughts, but still, I had a rather peculiar realization. I realized that my life is somewhat similar to Mean Girls, or any other teenage movie. Not literally like bimbos and nerds, popularity contests, etc, but still similar.

Earlier, I was the head meanie, or the queen bitch if you will. I’m quite the skeptic and sarcastic to the bone you see. So yes, for the past year or so i’ve assumed that role – commenting and passing judgment on almost everything. As in almost all teenage movies, Mean Girls included, the queen bitch gets overthrown. Someone teaches her a lesson and eventually, everyone except the queen bitch finds a love interest and she is left alone mumbling sarcastic and mean things to herself.

Not that my life is as extreme as that, but the love interest part is kinda similar. I have taken to living vicariously through the experiences of my two good friends. Its kinda weird actually. But I can’t help but think that i am ‘learning a lesson’ for being so mean/bitchy. True that me being mean/bitchy has nothing to do with finding a love interest (or does it? i’m not sure, probably there is some correlation), but I do think that i am meant to gain some extremely valuable lesson from all this.

I’m waiting for the epiphany.

Anyway, today while we were talking, I realized that I have no stories. I have become the person who tells stories of my friends rather than of myself and that saddened me a bit. What i mean by ’stories’ is the response one gives when some one asks a question like “So what’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever done?” or, “Have you ever..?” You know what i mean?

Yes, i have no interesting answers to those questions anymore. Ans it’s both surprising and heartbreaking to realize that. I have reached this stage without even realizing it and now there is no where to go. How can i move to the stage where i actually do have a decent (according to my own judgment) answer to those questions? Sigh

I have to wallow in self-pity for a while. Give me a free pass ok?

Thanks for listening,

sourspicy: ah self-pity, i welcome you –