Some may call them nightmares...

... but I will just refer to them as plain good ol' dreams. Not that good, is all. They are about death; my own. And as is often the case with my dreams, they are vivid, colourful, and the kind that stay in the conscious memory after the sleep is over. Well, I do not necessarily recall them in their entirety upon waking, but retain significant fragments.

Four different scenarios for your morbid reading pleasure.

1. I am on my way home, quite close to it in fact, when I notice the laser marker of a sniper on me. I duck and run etc but I am shot in the back of my head the moment I step foot through the gate of the house. And I fall dead.

2. Sort of a bizarre continuation of the same scene. Only, I am through the gate now, alive again. A girl jumps out from behind a pillar, opens her coat most provocatively, to reveal, instead of her naked glory, explosives strapped to herself, which she promptly blows up, sending tiny bits of me (and I suppose her too) to rain all over my front lawn.

3. I am standing on the edge of a cliff, taking in the view. The ground beneath me just gives way and with that cursed piece of earth, I fall to my death below.

4. I don't even know where I am, but there is one fucking crazy sand-storm suddenly, and before I have time to complain about the sand stinging my eyes and blinding me and bruising every exposed part of my body, I am buried. Entirely.

When I die in the dream, the dream just turns to black, to nothing, to no dream I guess. And its not a slow fade in, but a rather abrupt cut.

I am aware that there are many different ways of reading and interpreting different elements in dreams, but I am not sure of their actual applicability in any given case. All the same, if someone could pinpoint exactly what the fuck in my brain is giving rise to these dreams, I would be quite amused, to say the least. But I am quite content with just enjoying my dreams as they come and to have a good night's sleep!

शुभ रात्री (good night)