It all moves so well in a dream. Well, perhaps, not all the time, but still somewhere there is that floating like feeling.
My five weeks of summer break had that flavor too. I am there on an island. Far far away. Living a very different life. Speaking a very different language. Some of the experiences are similar. You go to work in the morning irrespective of weather. Cold, rain, snow, you get up and go. And you find you are not alone. There are the elderly pushing themselves along, the children skipping along, the middle-aged mumbling along. You join that group as you make your way from home to the underground, punch in your ticket, run as if it is the last train when you hear its ‘swoosh’, heave a sigh of relief as you tumble in just as the doors close behind you, wrinkle up your face when you realise you’ll have to stand a better part of the way…and it goes on.
You come back in the evening to the smell of bread, cake, crepes, soup, wine, cheese wafting all the way down your street and you succumb sometimes to the temptation of picking up a bite than cook at home. You are too tired to go out but you can still have the sky come in as you throw your windows open to the world around you…and you sing on.
Summer days are long days and it is bright daylight till 10 pm at least. To wash away the effects of the red consumed, you go for a walk and feel the warmth of the lights as the city wakes up to the night. There’s music, cheer, love, friendship all around and that calms you down. You hum a song along with a musician, break into a jig with the salsa dancers, smile that special one on spotting two people in love, on seeing a child curl his finger around a bigger one…and it goes on.
You hate to come back at midnight from that walk with self and a 1000 around you, from that sense of liberation which comes with anonymity, but you have to, as it will be work as usual in a few hours from then…and so the dream goes on.
A week of vacation comes up. You fly off to an unknown land which most don’t even know exists .Thrills, friends, mountains, laughs, food, company, experiences, some good, some bad…and it goes on.
You come back to that base on the island. It is still a dream but you feel happy to be ‘back home’. You are content to resume life where you left it a week ago and pick up the threads. After the high of a break it feels good to be back to a familiar, routine life. It feels safe. Yes, even in a dream you can feel safe and feel at home…and it goes on.
The last few days on the island are akin to being on a roller coaster ride where you can anticipate the end and that you’re soon going to have to get off aka wake up. You feel happy, a little nostalgic, but with a sense of looking ahead.
And then you wake up.
The dream is over. But the smile remains.
You are happy to be truly home.
The best is yet to come. Or will it just be another dream? …and life goes on.