MOON BASE

I’ve heard that many people have “flying dreams”, nighttime visions of soaring through the sky like some kind of superhero or a magical human-bird; however, I doubt that the majority of those people have flying dreams akin to mine – ones that are often more frustrating than enjoyable. This type of dream is a recurring one for me. Every few weeks or so, it will pop up in my sleeping mind. I can’t decide whether I look forward to it or not, but regardless of my wishes, it’s with me for the good, it seems.

The dream always begins with me speeding across the sky. The landscape below often differs, but the one that appears most often and did so most recently closely resembles that of seaside cliffs. Flying through the air, skimming the water as a weightless, human airplane, there’s nothing I would rather be doing. It feels incredible to have the wind rushing in my face and to watch the earth pass by below me.

“All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.”

Deeper into the dream and madness. Birds with broken wings walking on the ground were once flying high up in the sky. Finishes off with the same reflection that the Life we live is unreal. It might even be a dream; and what we see or seems to be, be nothing more than “A Dream within A Dream”.
I have to continually be jumping off cliffs and developing my wings on the way down. Used the wings of the flying Universe, dreamt with open eyes; saw in darkness.

However, it never lasts. For some reason that I can never quite grasp, I land, touching down smoothly onto those cliffs above the water. As soon as my feet come to rest on solid ground, I want to become airborne again, to feel those glorious sensations some more. Nevertheless (and here’s the frustrating part), no matter how hard I try or what I do, I simply can’t take off again. The rest of the dream is generally spent doing increasingly desperate acts to get back in the air (ie. running at top speed with my arms spread wide like some crazed flightless bird, lying flat on my stomach on the ground, waiting to take off like an airplane, and eventually repeatedly jumping off the cliffs and climbing back up to try again).

Maybe one of these nights, I’ll figure out the trick to getting back among the clouds. And I’d be able to have flying dreams, again.

“Visionary builds what dreamers imagined.”


©The Honest Fabler – Pooja Mukherjee
©Image Source – Google Images

Stolen Dreams

The worst part about today’s situation,
is not that we don’t dream.
On the contrary, we have a million dreams!
Dreams, so intense that on turning true
they would shake the society’s foundation.

The rainbow of love would shine high,
Unfazed by the people’s judgement no soul would cry.

The unicorns would be our daily ride.
A ride that we would stride with our
chest swollen with pride.

Ink would flow all over our skin,
We would flaunt them openly with our raised chin.

9-5 would no more be a standard life,
Freedom would be our very first wife.

But, oh, still they say we don’t dream.
Little do they know, it’s them who have
chosen our life’s every stream.
Little do they know, they’ve stolen our
favorite cake’s best cream.


©The Honest Fabler

©Image Source- Google Image