the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything

 ... is 42. or so the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy says.

it's obviously tongue in cheek, but it's also something more.

it means the answer doesn't mean much, if you don't ask the right question. and sometimes asking the appropriate question is more tricky than finding the correct answer to it.

I don't know if it's a mid-life thing (aside: I wonder why the word mid-life is almost always used with crisis!), or if it's just a my-life thing, or it is a combination of both and the series of crises that life seems to be throwing at me with regularity.

but yeah, it's definitely a time to think about questions, as much as I think about answers. in fact, the answers to most questions I ask myself these days are quite obvious - which, to me, is a hint that perhaps I'm not asking myself the right questions.

one thing's for sure though, my 40s (so far) have been an exercise in crisis management. it seems to have started with the motorbike accident just 3 weeks before I turned 40 (or maybe the near-crisis career "bump" that happened a few months before it?), and it's just been one thing after another since. some positive things have happened as well, but it's fair to say that while the successes are welcome and lasting, they also seem to be few and far between, while the struggles, although not disastrous, do seem to knock me down with regularity - to the point where every single day seems to be a struggle I'm ill-equipped to deal with. some of those struggles are self-inflicted/self-exacerbated (mechanical problems with my motorbike and car come to mind) but the vast majority seem to be curveballs life/the universe is throwing at me.

one thing that stands out the most though, is that these crises have reminded me in no uncertain terms, that the most valuable of all things is health. the next is human connections. somewhere in the mix is things like discipline, persistence, consistency, etc.

but those are all "answers". it's been a while since I've even stopped to consider the questions, in anything more than an academic, philosophical, almost idle sense.

mom loved to say that one of my granddad's favourite expressions was "is life worth living? it depends on the liver" (an obvious pun on the organs/health of the person asking the question, as well as the state of the person themselves).

in my case, I can say, beyond doubt, that as a person, my life seems worth living.

my daily struggles have reminded me repeatedly of the privilege and opportunities I have - my support system (both emotionally and economically), my stress-free environment (if say 95% of the people I know were in the same situation I am in, they probably will not have the circumstances to easily deal with them!), and more... 

and yet, the struggle remains. a struggle so bad that I am sometimes jealous of people around me (obviouslt on a superficial level! I know my situation is unique and I cannot pick and choose aspects of others' lives - that's not how the universe works!). a struggle that I hope isn't going to occupy me for the rest of my life, although I am realistic enough to acknowledge that worse struggles do exist, and it's not a guarantee that things will get better quickly or easily.

I don't know why I am so fixated on this struggle. I don't know why I can't see the bright side of things. of getting the clarity to see life as it really is. without all of its assumptions and distractions. 

I've been advised to try meditation. but meditation in and of itself leads to idle meandering. I think I need something mroe directed. I think I need to ask myself more questions.

or maybe I just need to sleep on time (yes, there are actually 3 people who have advised me the same thing, and in fact it's the only thing that the majority of people who are closely aware of what I'm going through agree upon). damn, that would be an anticlimax if it was true!

either way, here I am, rambling along. a metaphor for my life, if there ever was one. 42 years old. happy birthday to me!

black roses

I came upon a rose garden. The rose garden had black roses, which I know fascinated my mom as she has mentioned them multiple times for some reason - I think she saw them once 45+ years ago.

I was going to go bring her to see to see the black roses when a friend arrived at the garden to tend to the roses. She told me they looked black because they were burned roses. She showed me the bit where the ends of the petals were still red, as that was the newly grown bit.

I didn't at the time question how burned petals could continue to grow and how the new growth was red, but I did think to myself that it would be very disappointing to explain to my mom that black roses are simply burnt roses.

And that's when I woke up.

Coincidentally, I completely forgot about this until I saw a video today, a tongue in cheek one about people who can't see colour in their imagination, which prompted me to describe my dream in the comments. I found the coincidence (that I would dream of black roses on the same day I'd come across a video of people with black and white imaginations) uncanny... or was it confirmation bias?

Either way, time to tell mom about my dream about black roses... or not.

the office party

it was late one afternoon. i was in office. suddenly, the fire alarm went off. everyone made their way to the nearest fire exit. down the two flights of stairs, we were all in the lobby, about to head out the emergency exit. the lobby wasn't like my office building's lobby though: it was much later - maybe 8-10 times the size overall, and with a really high ceiling that was maybe thrice as high as my office's. it also had a completely different style - indicative of a glass fronted modern building, not the 100+ year old stone walled office building i work in.

anyway - the fire alarm turned out to be a false alarm and we were told over the PA that we could return to our respective floors. that's when I checked my pocket (front right - that's where it always is!) and realized I didn't have my access card on me, so I couldn't get back in myself. I spotted my manager Tim getting into the elevator (or actually - an elevator, because there were 3, unlike my actual office) and got into that one. it was a massive elevator - practically room sized!

I stood next to Tim, waiting for the elevator to take us to the first floor.

and that's when I realized I wasn't wearing a shirt.

a lady standing across me, wearing a business suit, seemed to notice the same thing at the very same moment.

she said "you might want to wear a shirt to work", to which I mumbled something and hurried out of the elevator, extremely embarassed. I had no idea what to do, but thankfully the lobby had emptied (presumably everyone had taken the stairs or one of the 3 massive elevators), and I had a moment to scan the seemingly bare lobby for something to save my dignity. I saw a crumpled piece of fabric in the corner. I walked over to it and picked it up. It was a discarded, dirty (but not overly dirty) grey hoodie. in fact, it looked exactly like a hoodie that's lying in my shed at home - it's what a handyman left behind after he built an awning for my motorbike in March 2022, and it's been lying in the shed ever since!

I dusted it before putting it on, and it fit, thankfully. I took the fire escape, as that was the only way back up that could be accessed without an access card. there was one access controlled door that I had to get through to enter the office though. thankfully, someone saw me through it when I knocked and let me in. my colleague Patrick. he asked me where I was and to hurry up and get into the frame.

everyone was posing for a photograph. everyone had a can of beer in their hand. I didn't want to hold everyone up so I simply posed without a drink, completely unaware of my grubby sweatshirt - I was on the sidelines as everyone was already in place for the photo, which was just as well. the angle from which the photo was being clicked was very weird - it required a lot of people in a verysmall space, so some were sitting on the desk, some squatting in front of it, and a few of us standing on either side.

the occasion was a visiting manager from one of our overseas offices, and after the photo was clicked, everyone took their seats. a lady (katie?) asked if anyone didn't have a drink and would like something. someone asked for a guinness. she said there weren't any more cans of guinness. someone said they hadn't opened their can of guinness and wouldn't mind swapping it for a can of heineken zero. I asked for a can of guinness zero, but there weren't any. I said any alcohol free beer would do - perhaps heineken zero then?

I took my can, popped it open, and took the last seat available - the one right next to the visiting manager. as we settled in, I looked around and was surprised to see, near the far end of the table - mom!

she was making some sort of hand gestures - she seemed to be suggesting she should move over and sit next to me. I realized that her moving over would be quite disruptive as she would have to squeeze past everyone on her side of the table, and then past the manager as well, and find a place to sit next to me, which was already occupied by plenty of people. and she'd have to find a seat as well, or pull one from somewhere else.

i tried to signal back with to her with my eyes and hands that she shouldn't move and simply sit there.

the manager had started speaking, and he was quite brief. somewhere in the middle I sneaked in a comment or question, and he replied with something humorous. towards the end he left it open for questions which a few of my colleagues asked, and he duly answered. once he wrapped up, he stood up and walked over to the breakout room where he made himself a coffee. everyone else got to their feet as well, and started mixing about.

mom walked over to me and asked me what i thought about the talk. i said it was nothing exceptional but definitely useful.

she asked me what prompted me to make that comment in the middle of his talk.

I told her it was simply something that came to my mind at the spur of the moment.

she asked me why I interrupted him when nobody else did.

I told her it's a fine balance of judgement about when saying something is welcome or considered an interruption. if he hadn't paused the right amount of time and I didn't have whatever came to my mind ready to say, I woudn't have said it. I told her it's something that takes years of practice and skill, and it's something that a lot of people don't seem to grasp how subtle but effective the skill is at building relationships - and also breaking relationships if done wrong.

she told me she was glad I was able to do it with such ease.

and that's when I woke up.

chronic fatigue

one of my daily struggles, in fact something that I'm surprised I've only mentioned on my blog once in passing despite it being such a massive part of my life since March 2024, is a unique yet pervasive (for me, since then) feeling. it's a feeling i struggle to explain to most people, and a feeling that very few people are actually even able to understand after I've explained it. the medical term for it is chronic fatigue syndrome, and it's something which, when it initially hit me and took over my life, left me completely hopeless, confused and literally on the verge of giving up. it's a feeling which, in hindsight, was completely alien to me before it hit me, and so crazily different from how I'd live before then that it has completely knocked me off my feet!

for those who know me well, I used to be like the famous battery advertisement (was it duracell or eveready?) - I could just go on and on. I was never too tired for anything. I could push myself to the limit, and when I was at my absolute limit, I could recharge a bit and keep going for some more. kinda like the latest phones that advertise a few hours of battery life on 5 minutes of charge, from their crazy high power quick chargers. there was a time in 2002 where I kept going for 68 hours without sleep, and was back on my feet after like a 2 hour nap... and another in 2007 where I did something like 32 hours followed by a 4 hour nap and then kept going for another 20 hours after that. most of my late teens were spent being up all night and napping through the day to keep going. there's this one episode I can't forget from 2001, when I fell asleep during a statistics lecture, and somehow kept writing was the professor (prof. Fernandes) was saying in my sleep. my friends claim I was so fast asleep I was snoring. the professor called my name, a friend shook me awake, and the professor asked me something she had just stated to the class. I was quite blank, until I looked down at my own notebook and saw I had scrawled the answer! I read it out and she was flabbergasted. she thought one of my friends had prompted me, but I showed her my notebook and she was forced to believe me. that's the sort of life I used to lead. even as recently as 2017, I once rode overnight to Goa after a whole day's work in office - I remember the ride to office with my fully loaded panniers as they touched a car while filtering in rush hour traffic, and then a friend clicked a photo of me before I rode off from the parking lot at sunset. after I reached my friend's place at Goa at noon (yes, I did take a nap on the way, especially after the sun rose and the heat really started getting to me), and I literally had a shower and was going to take a proper nap, when my friend was like "did you ride to goa to sleep?" and dragged me out for lunch, followed by drinks at one beach, then a swim at another, dinner, and fianlly a DJ/private party that went on till about 1am and I was in bed at 2am. that's the sort of thing I could do not too long ago.

and now, it's different.

if I over exert over a period of a few hours and sit on the couch, I might be in a position where I'm too tired to even get up to drink water, eat or sleep. if I over exert and go to bed, I might be in a position where I am unable to get out of bed the next morning - or even the next afternoon. there has even been a time when I was too tired to get out of bed in the evening, and literally got out at 8pm!

worst of all, there are no warning signs - I just have to anticipate it. I have been out cycling for 35km a couple of times - it doesn't feel weird while I'm out and about (other than the actual reduction of my physical capabilities after the last year and a half of minimal exercise), I get home, put the bike in the shed, wifey brings me a glass or two of water, I sit msyelf down on the couch - and that's it. I can't move for the next few hours. sometimes even 6 hours. my brain's awake and active, which is terrible when coupled with the entertainment laptop hooked up to the tv (and of course and endless list of things I could "get done") while seated there in my half-zombie state.

it's such a regular phenomenon that I've actually identified missing gaps of unaccounted time (literally hours) where I know where I was, what I was trying to do, but can't really match the total elapsed time with what I achieved. I was obviously better off going to bed... but I didn't. because it felt like I couldn't.

and then there's the mornings. my alarm goes off at 8:13am, labelled "wake up". I have practically never woken up with it. I do wake up physically and either dismiss or snooze it. if I have enough energy i change the snooze time from the default 5 minutes to a more realistic (in my head) time before snoozing. I have tried keeping the phone out of arms reach, and on such days, depending on my energy levels I might get out and reach it and drag it back to my bedside before dismissing/snoozing it, or on bad days I just let it ring out for half an hour or however it takes.

my next alarm goes off at 9:15am on weekdays, appropriately labeled "start work". this alarm has varying levels of success, although of late it's not been looking too good. some days I've managed to snooze it at an appropriate point where the subsequent ring has caught me at a time when I've had the right amount of energy to get out of bed. some days I've forced myself out of bed even though I felt like I wasn't ready for it, and 10 seconds, a minute, or sometimes even 2 minutes later (ie after I've pee'd) I have gotten back into bed.

My mornings are so fuzzy I don't really have any data about which strategy works better or worse, and certainly no data about what works so badly it needs to be abandoned altogether.

if all has gone well I'm out of bed and somewhat ready to tackle the day. if it hasn't, I'm back in bed. this is where the real disaster begins to unfold. over time, my fatigue from the previous day seems to overlap with my lack of energy from being in bed for so long. I get thirsty but don't have the energy to grab a glass of water from the bedside table. or even worse, I do, and the bottle is empty because  I was so "barely awake" when I got out of bed the previous morning I forgot to take the empty bottle down with me - and of course nodbody is in the bedroom during the day so if it's skipped in the morning nobody will notice. even later, I'll be so hungry I don't have the energy to get out of bed.

sometimes I'll be fast asleep for hours, other times I'll be half-awake, lucid dreaming, and there are days when I'll literally be wide awake, alert, and able to have a whole (albeit brief) conversation with Shruti across rooms. sometimes I'll have the energy to check my phone, see messages from work, see work meetings/appointments (and yes, over the last year or so, I've actually had more medical appointments than work meetings!). sometimes I'll have the energy to message my manager that I need to take the day or a few hours off work.

on some days, I will appeal to Shruti to help me out of bed, and she'll physically get me to sitting, help me get my feet to the ground, help me to my feet, take me to the bathroom or down the stairs.

on other days, I won't even have the energy to call out for help.

she's tried getting me out of bed when I'm not ready and I'll literally fall back into bed as soon as she's not helping me up, or sometimes I'll beg her to let go of me and I'll get back into bed. there was even last tuesday when she physically took me to my work desk and I sleepwalked through the next few hours until I had the energy to get out of my chair and back into bed.

it's the sort of problem that has me completely flummoxed - I don't know what will work, or what won't, until it does or doesn't.

as a result, I've begun shying away from challenges - or taking up challenges fully anticipating completely disruptive setbacks.

I've stopped hiking.

I've (almost) stopped cycling.

I've almost stopped sailing.

Even the vacations we've gone for have had nap times scheduled.

If I had to explain all of this to 40-year old me, I'd have thought it was some sort of joke (or horror story, more likely).

Oh and there's the accompanying brain fog. But that's another long story.

Somehow, I feel relieved to finally get this typed out.

Based on all the medical advice I've been given, chronic fatigue syndrome doesn't need to be experienced the way I currently am experiencing it. There is a path to living with it which isn't disruptive (or even noticeable to others). It's just that all my attempts so far have not succeeded for extended periods of time.

But there is hope. And I'm counting on it.

Right. Off to bed now.

the death dream

I had gone on a short drive, alone. It was to a spot I'd been to previously - the start of a hiking trail. The road to it was steeply uphill and more dirt track than road, but my car could handle it fine. The trail started on private property, and there was room for one car to park next to the gate. The parking spot and gate were at a sharp right hand bend to the trail heading up to that point. There was no other car parked - I was alone. I parked, but instead of getting through the gate and on to the hiking trail, I stood on a rocky outcrop on the other side of the path. I looked at the sky. The sky was a bright, cloudless blue. I closed my eyes, face to the sun, feeling it warm me.

I opened my eyes. The sky was still blue and cloudless. I looked down for the first time, and was surprised to see it was not a hillside, but a straight drop to the ocean!

The ocean was a deep blue, almost black, despite the bright sunlight, suggesting it was very deep. The cliff I was standing on the precipice of was pretty steep - I'm not sure how I ended up in such a precarious spot. I tried taking a step backward towards safety, but I was not on level ground - the rock was at a steep incline behind me and I was unable to step backward. My attempt to step backward caused me to lose my footing and actually take a small (but quite steep) step forward and downward.

I was scared.

I tried to sit against the rock face I was on, in the hope that it would give me more grip and a chance at dragging myself back up to safety - however, I was unable to sit. I had a heavy backpack that got in the way when I leaned backward, and leaning backward caused me to slide forward and down even more.

I was beginning to panic.

I tried to guage the height of the cliff and the steepness of the descent. I considered sliding down instead of trying to get up - what if it was safer to get to the ocean and somehow try to swim ot safety, maybe lose the backpack once I hit the water?

The struggle of trying to stay in one place and not slide down any further was beginning to exhaust me. I was ready to give up. It felt like there was no hope of getting out of that spot, and anything I did would simply prolong my struggle.

I felt like the best course of action was to take a clean leap forward so that I could plunge straight off the cliff and hit the water feet first.

I was conscious of my inability to swim, and worse, the incredible weight of my backpack which seemed very firmly secured to me and was surely going to drag me down with it.

I looked up again, then closed my eyes, felt the warmth of the sun for what might be the last time ever,. I savoured that feeling for as long as I felt I could, and then opened my eyes.

I was in bed, and my morning alarm was about to ring - it literally rang seconds later.

I woke up, glad to be alive.

ps: this is the spot, based on the route I drove in the dream: Robin's Well

nightmares don't come true

It was Sunday morning. I wanted to hike up cavehill (the hill I live on the side of) with the cavehill walking club - they hike up every Sunday at 11am. I set my alarm for 10am before going to bed.

I woke up, and I was late. I considered running to the start point, but as there were less than 5 minutes for 11am I realized I wouldn't make it in time. I considered cycling to the start point, but I remembered I haven't used my cycle in over 2 weeks and it probably needs air as it tends to lose air from the rear tyre over a few weeks and I haven't filled it in at least in a month.

I decided to run up the couple of streets that lead to a shortcut that meets the path about 10 minutes ahead of the start point. Once I got to the shortcut I slowed down to a brisk walk as I didn't want to tire myself out. I got to the point where the shortcut meets the main path. I checked the path both ways, and there was nobody in sight at all. Not even a random passer-by to ask if they saw a group going up. I figured I was still behind the group and had to take another shortcut to catch up with them. This one involved cutting across a couple of fields and a hedge before getting to the main path again.

I cut through the first field and the hedge and was entering the second field, but I was getting increasingly tired. My legs were struggling to move. It got to a point where I was trying to move my legs by grabbing my thighs with my arms and pulling them forward - and it still didn't help. I stopped and stood still. I couldn't move.

I looked around. There was nobody to be seen. I wondered how long I'll be here before someone found me.

I was sweating profusely. A cold sweat.

And that's when I woke up.

It was 9:55am, Sunday morning. I dismissed my alarm and asked if anyone was driving to the start point and could give me a lift. I busied myself with other things, as I thought I had plenty of time. But time passed, and before I knew it, it was 10:45am. I would have to leave right now if I had to walk to the start point, as nobody offered me a lift. I rushed downstairs, but I realized I was hungry. I stuck some fruit in my backpack. 10:55am. I had to leave right now if I had to cycle to the start point. But I wasn't sure if the cycle had air. I went to the shed and checked - my cycle was locked up with the heavy chain inside the shed from before I went on vacation. I didn't even check the air, because I couldn't remember where I had kept the key - that chain is only used when I'm locking the cycles and going on vacation. Back in the house, I considered running up the next couple of streets and taking the shortcut.

Something stopped me. I'm not sure what. Time seemed to slow down, or maybe speed up. It was 11am, then 11:05am. If I left now, I would definitely have to take both shortcuts and jog most of the way.

I decided to take the motorbike to the parking lot halfway up instead.

I left at 11:15. Got to the parking lot at 11:25. The parking lot was so full cars were parked on the road nearby. Thankfully I was able to find a spot inside the lot that was too small for a car but big enough for the bike. Locked up my helmet and started running towards the path. When I got to the point where people usually stop for a break and to click a photo (this is the spot where there's a waterfall too), there was nobody at all. I waited a few seconds and then decided to run on ahead.

I passed a lady coming downhill and asked if she had passed a group of walkers going up, including a tall long haired man with a chihuahua (the only person I was sure would be on the walk!). She said she had passed a group of walkers, and there was a tall long haired man, but she didn't see a chihuahua. I figured it must be them anyway, and jogged on ahead.

I reached the point where the second shortcut meets the main path when I recognized two friends from the walking club.

I told them the dream I just had before I left for the walk.

It was Monday morning. I had to make myself an appointment to see the doctor during the week. The doctor's reception released all the appointments for the week at 10am on Monday morning. There are two ways to get an appointment: call up at 10am or go to the reception in person at 10am. However, going to the reception is more reliable as plenty of people tend to call and I've been waiting in queue for over half an hour only to be told all the appointments for the week have been released and I need to call again next Monday. People also queue up outside the reception, but it seems like the receptionist deals with people quicker in person than on the phone, as I've counted at least 30 people getting appointments in the queue, while the phone queue takes half an hour even if there are less than 15 in queue.

So the ideal plan was to go in person and book an appointment. That was the plan all along - I had already packed my lunch, fruit box, snack box, etc the previous night. But somehow, when going to bed, I clicked something by accident that dismissed all my alarms for Monday morning. I tried reinstating them but I wasn't sure if it would work.

Monday morning, and I had to decide if I was going to take the motorbike to work or cycle. I reminded myself that I had already walked up cavehill on Sunday, so it would probably be more prudent to take the motorbike. I was hungry though and decided I should have breakfast before I leave. Breakfast done, I left for the doctor's - after which I would head to office. However, while I was on the way, it was clear from traffic and the time on my motorbike's dashboard that I wasn't going to make it at 10am. And in fact I had to make it before 10am if I was to not be at the end of the queue!

I decided to stop and call the doctor instead.

I was passing a mall, so I decided to park there. As I got my phone out to call the doctor, I walked into the mall from the parking lot. Something was wrong with my phone though. It wasn't acting the way I expected it to. Instead of calling the doctor, it created a reminder to call the doctor. It then made the reminder to call the doctor to repeat every day at 10am. As I was trying to fix that there was a message saying that an update was going to be installed, and this would change how reminders would look (even though they would continue to work the same). I was wondering why my phone wasn't letting me call the doctor.

That's when I noticed there was actually no network in range. I walked towards the glass front of the mall and looked out as I waited for the phont to pick up a signal. I tried calling again. This time it tried to make a WhatsApp call, which obviously wouldn't work. I was so confused and frustrated with my phone and wondered why I couldn't make a simple phone call.

And that's when I woke up.

I had either slept through or dismissed my alarms in my sleep, or maybe I had not successfully reinstated them. Shruti woke me up, reminding me that I had to call the doctor. I asked her what time I should call to be at the front of the queue when they release appointments. She said I should call immediately. it was 9:35am.

I called. I was the first in the queue. I thought to myself, that's weird. If I was first in the queue, would the receptionist answer and tell me to call closer to 10am? I decided not to take a chance, and call later. Still in bed, I called at 9:45am. I was again first in the queue! This was weird. I decided to call 5 minutes later.

At 9:50am, I was still first in the queue! I wondered if the receptionist was answering the phone and asking people to call back later. Still, I decided, if I was first in the queue at 9:55, I would stay on and speak to the receptionist before calling again.

I called at 9:55am. I was 5th in the queue this time, and the wait time was barely 5 minutes! And I don't think many people showed up in person, because I got an appointment for Tuesday morning!

I messaged Shruti to say the appointment was for Tuesday morning at 10:30am, because I was still not sure if I was awake or in a dream.

I woke up half an hour later. I checked my phone for messages. It said that I messaged Shruti to say I had an appointment for Tuesday morning at 10:30am. In fact it only said "Tuesday 1030". I'm still not sure if I typed it half asleep or fully awake.

It was only on Tuesday morning, when I reached at the reception (on cycle) and saw that they did indeed have my appointment that I was sure it was not a dream.

Christmas without dad

It was the morning of Christmas. Late morning, as it was nice and bright. The phone rang - it was the green land line. Aunt Avita was on the phone. She wished me a merry Christmas and asked to speak to dad. I went to the bedroom and picked up the extension there and told her to wait a minute. Dad was napping. He was lying on his side - for some weird reason, he was lying on the side he usually wouldn't. I nudged him awake and gave him the phone. I left the room and bumped into mom on my way out. She asked me who called. I told her dad was speaking to Aunt Avita. She asked me, where is he?

I turned around and saw there was nobody else in the room. In fact, there was no telephone either.

Mom sat cross legged on the bed and said, dad isn't here. I sat beside her, laid my head in her lap, and repeated, dad isn't here. We cried.

And that's when I woke up. 

all nighter

every few months, I end up staying up till sunrise. usually a Friday night, usually because I lost track of time and by the time I realised it's too late I figure I might as well stay up and pull through the weekend.

not this time though. it was jetlag. 

turns out my plan of getting enough of sleep on the flight and avoiding coffee and alcohol failed - miserably. two days of being unable to stay awake during the or fall asleep at night later, I'm out of ideas.

that's the weird thing about staying up all night for me: I usually hope it's going to fix my sleep cycle, but it never does. this time, I promise I'm going to do everything to reset it - exercise, get plenty of sunlight, not nap before bedtime... and sleep at bedtime! 

today is a lovely day to be up early - clear, sunny and warm. I'm also going to be a ride leader for one of the longest routes I've led if memory serves me right. and when I'm back, I plan to mow the lawn too. if my brain is still functioning after that, there's brakes that are overdue for replacement and a rechargeable torch that I might be able to fix.

also, there's something nice about a cup of tea while the first birds turn up for breakfast - sparrows and starlings in the backyard and a young magpie in the front. also, the neighbour's cat was hunting insects at 6am. fun times for everyone!

anyway - I have an hour before it's time to leave. time for a shave! 

dad smiled

We were at home. it was a Saturday afternoon. We were downstairs, in the dining area, discussing what we should do today. Shruti handed her phone to me and showed me a message from Abhishek saying B&Q has an offer on fancy flush tanks. She asked if we could get ours replaced with flushes operated by a pull cord. I explained there are two types of such flushes, the Victorian style "high flush" which are quite old fashioned, not very practical, and not really better than what we currently have, and completely concealed flushes which would be hidden in a false ceiling. However concealed flushes would require us to redo the ceiling of all 3 toilets, which would be much more expensive than the flushes themselves. Shruti agreed it didn't make sense, so we could go out for ice cream instead. She went upstairs to get ready (I was already dressed to go out for some reason), while I waited.

I noticed it looked quite damp outside and sounded like rain beating on the windows, so I thought I should go out and check how bad the rain actually was. I went out without my jacket, and the rain was really barely a drizzle, and it was pleasant despite there being a fair breeze.

Our house was identical to the Belfast one, but its surroundings were completely different. there was no fence. we had no neighbours! on one side of the house, there was a dense evergreen forest of pine trees. on the remaining three, it was well trimmed grass. not flat but not hilly either - just undulating. there was a path leading sideways from our house to a row of similar looking detached houses, about 100 metres away. the path was paved, but quite narrow - just about enough for two people to walk along it, side by side. I took a few steps along it, and turned around to look at the house. in the window of the room facing me, beside a couple of small bits and bobs, was dad's head, stuffed and preserved. it was placed facing out of the window, into the distance. the eyes were pointing straight ahead and his expression, neutral. Shruti must have just moved it there, and I made a mental note to check if direct sunlight is fine or will affect the preservation of the head. 

Just then, I realised I was wearing my home slippers (the flip flops I used to wear in Mumbai, specifically), and I may have got a bit of mud on my left slipper. I bent down to check, and when I stood up and looked at the window again, dad was now looking slightly downward towards me, and smiling broadly! I couldn't believe it. How was such a thing even possible? I must be seeing things! My mind is surely playing tricks on me! It didn't make sense though, as everything else seemed quite real and exactly as it should be.

I closed my eyes and stood still. After about 5 seconds, I reopened my eyes and he was no longer looking at me, and his expression was back to what it used to be. 

And that's when I woke up. 

I thought to myself, that was my first ever dream where dad hasn't been alive. 

Sailing from Charni Road to Portpatrick

I woke up at 7am and headed to Carrickfergus. It was a gloomy morning, and only two other people had arrived - the rest were on their way. We were going to leave for Portpatrick between 11am and noon, so I was very early. I took the train. Shruti, Kevin and Brenna joined me on the train as we headed to South Bombay. We got off the train at Charni Road (although from the layout of the platforms and bridges it seemed more like Mahalaxmi). I wanted to use the toilet. Shruti and I looked for it. We could only find the one marked Ladies but not the one marked Gents. We arked around and was eventually led to the station master's office. There were a bunch of people inside, a few sitting around a table, having some sort of meeting, while the rest were in a queue. It was a queue for the toilet!

Thr toilet and the station master/meeting room were in one big room, with nothing to separate them - the toilet was a commode surrounded by filing cabinets and files and stacks of paper other things you'd expect to see in a station master's office. I didn't really pay attention to the queue ahead of me and before I realized it, it was my turn. There was nobody queued up after me, and I was thankful. I would have really liked some privacy but the best I could get was the fact that there was nobody in the room other than Shruti, and the bunch of men having a meeting in the other half of the room - the men were bent over something on the desk and discussing it animatedly, so Iwas quite sure they wouldn't pay me any attention.

Right after I sat on the commode, I started feeling very weird. I felt dizzy and unstable. I asked Shruti to come closer and hold my hand, as I felt I was about to faint and fall off the commode and make a mess. She held my left hand and asked me what happened and if I'm OK. I told her I'll need a minute but I feel better already.

In the meantime, a lady walked in, wearing a white nurse's uniform, including a nurse's cap.

I somehow assumed she was in charge of keeping the toilet clean, and complained to her, while still seated on it, that it was not. She replied that it's not her fault it's not clean, as I'm the one currently using it. I told her it wasn't clean before I used it, and in fact I almost fainted as it was so dirty. She refused to believe me until Shruti backed me up.

Job done and I was back on the platform. We took the bridge on to the road. We were trying to get to the beach, but I took the wrong bridge out and we had to walk along the road, and take another bridge to get on to the beach. Kevin and Brenna were waiting at the end of the bridge, and I told them they should come sailing too. At that point, a group of about 3 or 4 older people (one of whom resembled my school science teacher) told me it was too late to go sailing - it was already noon! Also, we were at Charni Road, and the boat left from Carrickfergus!

I wondered why Hugh didn't call me when he was leaving - I thought about it a bit and realized he may have not left yet, but I definitely wouldn't make it, so I should message him instead and tell him that I couldn't make it. I also told everyone that we weren't sailing today as it had gotten too late.

And that's when I woke up. It was 8am. I had dismissed my 7:40am alarm in my sleep. If I didn't leave at 8:30am, I'd have been late to get to Carrickfergus to go sailing! I thought to myself, damn - that was really close! If I didn't wake up when I did, I'd have actually missed sailing that day!

ps: Turns out I had not read my email and we were actually supposed to get to Carrickfergus at 10am instead of the usual 9am. Still!

serial killer dad?

a recent dream was too traumatic to even blog, but I guess if there's some hidden meaning to it, it might be worth interpreting. in short, it was a dream about dad being a serial killer, him killing someone and dragging the body into our living room and propping it against a wall. for some reason we didn't seem to even react to this other than saying hello to dad as if it was just another day.

the victim was shot through the head so cleanly he had bandaged the bullet wound and it seemed like the victim (who was a bald middle aged caucasian man, btw) had simply had a bump to the head. but after the body was in the house (which looked like our mumbai apartment from the inside), we were surrounded by police cars (they looked like UK police cars) hiding in the thick pine forest surrounding it. the house was on the side of a hillock that was slightly higher than it, and looked like some sort of modern glass and metal house, with one side built into the side of a hillock and the other side held up by stilts, with a garden below it.

I had to get out of the house to go to the shop for something (seemed like something mundane like milk) and basically had to get away on foot without being spotted by the police. thankfully there were only about 3 cars and I was able to evade them by moving outwards in a spiral.

and that's when i woke up.

ps: I've had recent conversation about the hidden meaning of dreams, and while i insist there isn't any, my friend who I was discussing this with (and a few other people I know, and loads more on the internet) said they mean something. so - what does a dream about my dad being a serial killer mean?

The boring movie

It was some sort of spy situation, in a weird part of the world - looked somewhat like India, but not quite. Tom Cruise was with a female sidekick. They were in some sort of dangerous situation and needed to get out quickly. Tom hit some sort of contraption that launched himself and his accomplice like some sort of jetpack/ejector seat, but instead of being launched vertically, they were launched diagonally, almost horizontally, into the distance, past the seafront, into the sea. When they were just a speck on the horizon, the parachute launched. as they got closer to the water, it turned out it wasn't exactly the sea, but some sort of frozen iceberg, except that instead of the ice being white as icebergs are usually pictured to be, it was transparent - it looked somewhat like a frozen transparent wave! The wave was hollow - it had some kind of tunnel, the entrance of which Tom cruise and his accomplice slid through and came to a halt, as the villians or whoever was the cause of danger they were escaping watched on disappointed at their getting away.

Tom Cruise decided he had to go back in, alone.

The next thing, the sun had set, it was dark, and Tom Cruise was back in the ramshackle building he had escaped from, but alone. It was less a building than a crumbling abandoned, possibly half-constructed building, that was long but narrow. It was barely two or three storeys high, and didn't have any lights on. The street was lit in dim yellow light, and while there were other lights in the distance, none of the buildings nearby (all of similar height and not looking particularly well kept) seemed occupied or lit either. There were two guards at the top of the staircase, pacing up and down the corridor outside a room - presumably the room he had previously escaped from.

Tom made no attempt to avoid them, and got into a fistfight of sorts with both guards. The fight just went on with both sides trading blows, but no advantage gained or lost.

At some point, the door of the room opened and the guy who they were guarding (the boss of sorts?) emerged. He didn't seem to take too kindly to the scuffle and pushed the two guards aside, coming face to face with Tom Cruise.

At some point during the scuffle, the point of view had changed from third person to Tom Cruise's, and now it suddenly became apparent that the boss was some sort of giant - Tom's (and hence my) line of vision barely got to the bottom of his chest, and his hairy, muscular abdomen.

A set of quick punches to his middle, and the fight was on again. Despite the massive difference in size, there was still no clear advantage to either side. The fight seemed to just go on and on.

And then, I woke up.

It was 7:19am, and I think it was something on my phone that woke me up, although the wifi was off so it couldn't have been a message, my phone hadn't rang, and it wasn't my alarm either.

I thought to myself, am I really going to go back to sleep? That fight was super boring!

I did try to go back to sleep, and the fight seemed to resume, except the boss was now closer to Tom Cruise's height, and they were more kickboxing than fistfighting.

I remember thinking to myself, there must be some way to make this more interesting!

At some point in that fight I drifted off to a more dreamless sleep.

I dream of blogging

I was in a café, with Sidharth, Reshma and Shweta. It's hard to say where the café was, and there was no visible branding, but it did vaguely seem like it was in India. It felt like evening, and it felt like we had been there for a while. I abruptly turned the conversation to my blog. I told them, I've recently gotten back to my old style blog. The same style as what I used to write when I was in VJTI. In fact, the plan is to continue the old blog. Sidharth seemed unimpressed. I told him it would be interesting! The blog has stuff about our VJTI days, like copying Shweta's assignments and Reshma's notes.

Sidharth still seemed unimpressed. He said he'll decide when he can read it. How could he read it? 

This caught me off guard. How could Sidharth read my blog? I fumbled a bit, and then told him, it's in a database. An access database. 

He was even more unimpressed. What sort of blog is in an access database? 

That's when I woke up and decided I need to make sure my blog is fully uploaded to the Internet before the year is over! 

grocery shopping

 I had just entered a supermarket. It was a Lidl. I had cycled in. There was a room right next to the entrance, which was painted in bright colours and with stuff that might make it appealing to kids - a play room of sorts. Except that there were no toys, furniture, kids, or indeed any people at all in it. There was a cycle parked right in the centre of the room though, so I figured it might be acceptable to leave my cycle there as well while I shopped. I decided to stand my cycle against one of the walls of the room - and noticed there's a small door at the end of the wall. The door was locked, but I moved my cycle so that someone opening the door wouldn't knock it over. I then left that room and entered the store proper. There was a counter which had bakery items and a slicing machine. A man was at the counter as well, and it seems he was operating the bread slicing machine, which was unusual. The machine also looked different from the usual ones I've been using in Lidl stores. I saw the man put a bar of dark coloured cake to be sliced, and noticed it was being sliced into long slices instead of along the width of the cake as would be usual. Menawhile, the man was also making some sort of cheese toastie, except that after the toastie was made, he cut it into strips lengthwise, so it looked like cheese and bread strips. I asked him if he'd slice a loaf of bread for me, but he told me this counter was only for cakes and sandwiches. I looked for the actual bread slicing machine, but isntead found an entrance to another room. This room was colourfully (but not very brightly) lit, and had a comic book theme, including moving spotlights that contained colour projections of comic book characters. It seemed quite vivid and surreal. The room looked like it might have comic books, but on closer look, it was actually comic book themed greeting cards!

I picked up a very fancy card - I don't remember what was on the cover, but it was a birthday card. The inside ofthe card had a whole long message, which almost looked like a whole letter to the person whose birthday it was! Strange. Stranger though, was the fact that it was pre-printed with the name of the recipient and the sender! It was a birthday card to Stephanie from Roseanna. As I realized the names, I thought to myself, this can't be real! Why would a card shop in Lidl have a card which was clearly from my (late) aunt to my cousin?

And that's when I woke up.

predictable

It's strange, my recent dreams are so predictably tied to reality that they've stopped being fantastic!

I wonder what's changed. I miss my dreams.

adventure biking in nicobar

we had just landed in nicobar island. it was just past sunset, and I was with another biker, who I can't recall now. it was a weird airport, as there was no terminal building - in fact we simply climed down the stairs off the smallish plane, walked off the runway, and were outside the airport without having to pass through any gate. there were no boundary walls either.

our bikes were parked in what looked like a parking lot, but there was nothing else parked there. we mounted our bikes (they were adventure bikes), and rode off. we didn't have any luggage other than our backpacks, so it was quite handy.

the island seemed quite barren and desolate, without any trees in sight in the limited visibility, and what seemend like a very thin layer of vegetation, but which on a closer look seemed more like moss or litchen. outside the tarmac road we were on, the ground was quite uneven and rocky, and definitely tricky to ride on. I commented to my friend that while it looked like it would be good for off roading at first glance, riding on such rocky uneven surfaces would be both difficult and dangerous in case of a drop.

we didn't have too far to ride, but it got dark before we got to the nearest sign of civilization. we had been riding quite slowly down a straight road from the airport, which wasn't lit in any way. in the distance we could see what looked like a small settlement, and it had a single road running across it (at right angles to the road we were on), and the road was lit with street lights and had small buildings lining it on both sides.

as soon as we saw that settlement, I suggested we stop and check the map on my phone. we stopped at the side of the road, dismounted, and i checked the map on my phone. our current location was roughly at the centre of the teardrop shaped island. the road we were on ran noth-south, and we had been headed north. we could see the airstrip we had just arrived from on the map, and it ran east-west as expected. we saw the road ahead and settlement on the map. beyond it, the road continued to another airstrip. the airstrips had been interestingly named: the one we had landed on was called airport 3 on the map, and the one further north was called airport 6. both airports were roughly in the centre of the island, and ran approximately a third to half the width of the island. the settlement was roughly midway betwen the two airstrips, and the road ran further north past airport 6 and up to the north end of the island. there were just those two roads and two airstrips on the island from what I could see on the map on my phone. also, given we could see the settlement, I could judge visually based on the distance it showed on the map that the island was pretty small - maybe about 20km from north to south and maybe about 12km east to west. we were a couple of km from the settlement. as I studied the map, I stepped off the road and onto the rocks beside them. the rocks, given the thin layer of moss, were hard and uncomfortable to sit on, and while uneven, they were undulating. I asked my friend whether he thought it would be siuitable for off-roading. he said it won't be too bad, we just need to be sensible and careful.

we got back on our bikes, and rode to the settlement. at the junction where the road we were on met the one running through it, we stopped and discussed what we should do next. it was just past sunset so we figured we had plenty of time before we called it a night. my friend suggested having a cigarette, and a shop was right next to where we were. the lights in the shop were off, even though the counter was open, and there were packs of cigarettes on display. we took a cigarette each and lit them using a lighter on the counter. as we did so, a boy walked out of another shop a few shops down the road, waving at us.

I waved back and pointed into the shop, and then pointed at the lit cigarette I was holding. the boy went back into his shop, and probably told them we were there. a minute later, a middle aged lady entered the shop from a back-door, with a lit candle.

she set the candle on the counter. and asked us if there is anything else we want. my friend suggested we buy a whole pack and split the cost. I agreed.

as I dug into my pocket and took out my wallet, I realized I didn't have any cash with me.

my friend offered to pay, paid cash, as I picked a pack and pocketed it.

as we stepped away from the shop and on to the side of road, I asked him if he paid rupees or pounds. he replied that he obviously paid rupees as we're in India. I looked through my walled and realized I didn't have any Indian cards with me. I told him I'll locate a cash machine later tonight and withdraw some cash for the rest of the trip.

we looked up and down the street - it was lined with short buildings that were raised about half a floor above the road, and many of them had a basement half below the level of the road. the buildings had shops on the ground floor and those with a basement had shops in the basement as well. there didn't seem like any restaurants though. there did seem like there were a few places to stay though, as they had lit names along the corners of some of the buildings. the road in the other direction had fewer buildings and lower structures. we thought it might be more likely to find restaurants in that direction. there weren't any that we could see though. we got to the very end of the road, and the last house had a what seemend like a small restaurant attached to it. we entered, and it turned out we had to walk through the living room to a room that served as the restaurant. the family who lived in that house was in the living room. a man (presumably the guy who runs the restaurant) was sitting with a drink of what looked like whiskey and watching TV. the TV was one of those old-style CRT TVs that have not been sold for a while.

we asked the man if the restaurant was opened for dinner and he replied that it was. we asked him was was available, and he mentioned ther were thalis - vegetarian and chicken. i asked him if he also had any fish (given this was an island I was hoping we'd get some good local seafood!). he didn't understand me at first but I repeated fish (and then said "macchi") a couple of times and he replied yes, they could definitely serve a fish thali.

my friend asked if we could start by sharing a plate of fried chicken and a couple of malabari parathas. he specifically said "fried chicken, but not a whole serving". I said I'd like a fish thali after the fried chicken. the man relayed our order to someone in the kitchen, and asked if we wanted to sit and watch TV while we had our starters, and we could then move to the resturant area to eat our thalis. we agreed, and the parathas arrived quickly enough with a side salad.

my friend start eating his paratha with the salad, but I decided I would wait for the fried chicken to arrive. I did taste the salad though, and it had quite a few chopped green chillis. they weren't very spicy though - quite nice, actually.

a few minutes later, the chicken arrived, and I started eating it with my paratha. my friend had already finished half his paratha with the salad.

and that's when i woke up.

killing dad

I was in my parents' apartment in Mumbai. It was late afternoon.

Dad and I were having some sort of fight. It wasn't verbal. But it wasn't physical either. It was still a fight - the feeling of being physically threatened was very strong. I thought about how I could defend myself. But there was no way I could hide from my dad or prevent him from getting to me.

I considered getting out of the apartment from the terrace, climbing over the wall and sliding down the drain pipe. The thought of doing that and falling was scary, and I was afraid dad might still get me.

I decided the best thing to do was to run away from home.

As I opened the door, mom heard me and called out from the kitchen - "take care", she said.

I left without saying a word. I had actually hoped to leave the hosue without anyone noticing, but it was obvious that plan had failed.

Just as I shut the door I realized how stupid I had been. I could have locked dad INSIDE the apartment - all I had to do was lock the gate to the terrace, take the keys with me (there were no duplicates that I know of), and lock the main door from outside. I didn't have the set of keys to lock the main door from the outside (only dad had them) but I could have pushed a rod through the latch and shut it anyway. There were even plenty of rods that would have fit, on the terrace!

In the fraction of a moment I took to contemplate my stupidity, I also realized I had not carried my motorbike keys. Another ridiculous mistake. At least I had my wallet, although in my hurry I hadn't checked if there was any money inside.

As I ran down the stairs, I thought to myself: the motorbike was out of the question. Dad would have shot me getting out of the gate. Maybe I had a chance if I silently pushed the bike out of the gate and rolled down the street before starting the engine when far enough for him not to hear it. But that was irrelevant now - I didn't have the keys!

I then thought I'd meet a similar fate if I tried to exit the building by either of the gates on foot as well - dad would see me from the terrace and shoot me.

The only way out was to jump the wall and into the next apartment compound, and then the other wall into the one after that, to get to the next street without dad being able to see me. And that's what I did.

Once on the street, I thought about what I should do next. The first thing I did was check my wallet. And my worst fear was true - it was empty. So much for being able to run away. I hadn't even eaten yet!

I noticed the queue of rickshaws parked right next to where I was. None of the drivers were about. I got into the first rickshaw in the queue. The key was in. I turned it, and surprisingly, it cranked and turned on! I have never ridden a rickshaw before, so being able to start it on the first try took me by complete surprise.

I decided to use the rickshaw to get some distance between home and myself, but as I started driving the rickshaw I realized I had absolutely no clue what I was doing. I didn't even know how to change gears or operate the brakes!

I got the rickshaw around the corner and managed to stop it. That was scary. I had better think of a better plan.

That's when I realized I was right next to uncle Dirk's apartment building. I thought I could hide out there for a bit while I considered my next move.

As I got out of the rickshaw I took the key with me, just in case I needed the rickshaw later.

I entered the gate, and right behind it, dad was there!

He was dressed in his Sunday best, and I was surprised that he had the time to dress up and get there before me, and without me even seeing him - I hadn't taken more than a couple of minutes at the most.

He grinned at me and asked if I thought I'd be able to get away from him that easily, and that too by trying to go to the most obvious hideout. I didn't answer but pushed past him into the elevator.

The elevator was a construction elevator - it had no walls and was literally strung on a few steel cables. There were no buttons to select the floor - instead there was just a lever that could be pulled up or down to go up or down (and presumably returned to the middle to stop). I pulled it up just as dad jumped on to the elevator platform.

I held on to a bar at the corner of the elevator - dad stood next to me, at the edge of the elevator, not holding anything.

I swung my right leg at his legs, which, if I had connected, would have thrown him off the elevator and tumbling to a serious injury or death.

Dad, sidestepped, grinning, and I missed his legs completely.

That's when I realized I could have killed dad if he hadn't dodged me so well.

And I woke up.

driving a bus to goa

I was at this bus showroom in Mumbai. It was in Goregaon, just inside the entrance of Aarey.

I was just given the keys to a brand new bus.

I was going to drive the bus to Goa.

I climbed into the driver's seat, turned the key, and the bus's engine roared to life.

The bus already had passengers in it. They were all kids, wearing school uniforms for some reason. There was also someone sitting in the "jump seat" of the bus, he was my navigator.

It was late afternoon, and we set off without wasting a minute.

The first thing I had to do was find reverse gear - the bus was parked adjoining the road, but it was pointing the wrong way, so for some reason I decided to get the bus on to Aarey road in reverse.

Once in reverse, I let go of the clutch and the bus was in motion. But I realized it was quite difficult to drive the bus in reverse.

This bus had a strange arrangement where I could sit on the opposite side of the steering wheel if I was driving it in reverse - somewhat like I learned to do when parking a boat in reverse. I moved around into that position, so I was now facing the rear of the bus and able to look out of the clear windows at the rear and drive it in reverse without looking into my mirrors.

Obviously there were massive blind spots all around so I realized I couldn't drive the bus in reverse too far without having an accident. A few hundred metres later (the bus was quite quick in reverse!) I spotted a lay-by which was broad enough to turn the bus around, so I drove straight (ie reversed) into it. I then shifted the bus into first, and still facing the rear of the bus, backed out of the space I had just driven into, backwards! Once the bus was out far enough for the rear end to be able to turn without touching the wall, I turned the steering wheel and got the bus halfway around.

I then moved back into the normal driving position (ie facing out of the front of the bus), waited for the road to be completely clear of traffic and completed the turn. Luckily for me, there was hardly any traffic, and I also thanked my stars that I was driving in India, where smaller vehicles give way to bigger vehicles.

This is when I realized I hadn't fully memorized the gear pattern of the bus - I only knew where first and reverse were. In fact, the gear pattern was completely different from every car I've driven - the spot that would usually be first was an extra neutral, and reverse was the extreme right but centre.

The tachometer got close to 5000 RPM and I realized I had to shift quickly or I'd be over-revving the engine. I shifted into what I thought was second, but the bus jerked to a sudden halt and stalled.

I pulled the parking brake, and looked at the gear pattern. It was quite complicated, and I did my best to memorize it. I also described it to my navigator, and told him if I'd ask him where was a certain gear, he was responsible for reminding me.

I then realized I had forgotten how to start the bus. I remembered I had to turn the key, but couldn't remember which way. I tried turning the key back and forth randomly, until the engine cranked, and the bus was moving again. I still couldn't remember which way finally worked, but I figured I could try moving it back and forth randomly the next time and I'd remember it eventually.

Luckily for me the road was pretty clear and soon I had driven all the way to Ghatkopar.

At that time I was suddenly aware that I had not drunk any water and the stress of learning to drive the bus had left me quite parched. I realized the street I was on was very familiar - it was right where my uncle  Irwin (who recently pased away) and aunt lived.

I parked the bus on the side of the road and entered the building. I had my bluetooth earbuds on, and called the navigator and spoke to him on the handsfree as I climbed the stairs. My aunt lived on the fourth floor, and as I climbed the stairs I kept describing what I saw to the navigator. But then, as I reached the fourth floor, I realized all the apartment doors were bricked up. I got to where the apartment should have been and saw it was bricked up as well.

I said on the phone that I'm going to have to go back down and find another way. As I climbed back down the stairs I met a middle aged man climbing up.

He said he had followed me up and asked me what I was doing there. I told him I was going to visit my aunt who lived at the last apartment on the fourth floor.

He said he was in charge of the security of the building and that all visitors had to sign in with him before entering. He lived in an apartment on the ground floor and escorted me to it.

He asked me to come inside and have a seat on the couch while he brought out the visitor's register for me to sign.

I told him I was very thirsty and asked if I could get a glass of water.

He told me he just had a jug of "jaljeera" ready and asked if I would like a glass of that instead. I replied that I'd love some jaljeera and he poured me a glass.

As I drank the glass of chilled jaljeera, his young son entered the room. The boy sat cross legged on the floor with a notebook and started drawing or scribbling in it.

The man gave me the visitor register and a pen. Before I filled it in, I asked him how I could get to the apartment as the door was bricked up.

He told me there was another entrance on the other side of the building and I could get to the apartment through that entrance.

I told the man I was still thirsty and asked if I could have some more. He didn't pour more jaljeera for me though - instead, he topped my glass up with cold water, and it was now extgremely diluted jaljeera, the colour pale from the dregs of what was left in the glass before he refilled it.

I drank the glass of cold water/diluted jaljeera, and just then the navigator who was still on the phone (and could hear my half of the conversation) asked me what was taking so long, and that I should hurry as it was getting dark and the passengers were getting restless. I didn't reply to the navigator, but instead told the man that I was going to visit my relatives to ask for some water, but as I wasn't thirsty any more, I didn't need to visit them.

I stood up to leave without filling the register, thanked the man, and let myself out of the apartment. As I was stepping out I noticed it had gotten dark outside and I would have to drive all the way to Goa in the dark. I told the navigator I was getting back to the bus and would be there in less than a minute.

And that's when I woke up.

making things up

We were at home in Mumbai. Dad and I were discussing something important. I can't remember what it was, but we were trying to solve some theoretical problem. I mentioned something that Dad had said earlier and said that based on that, what he was saying now is impossible.

Dad replied by saying "Ignore that - I had made it up"

This completely baffled me. I was shocked beyond words. My thoughts were in a jumble. I mumbled "but that means... that means..." but was unable to finish. I finally said "I don't know what to think. I don't know what to believe and what not to."

Dad said "Don't take me so seriously. I've made loads of things up"

I told him that can't be possible. That too much of my world is based on things he's said, for me to pick apart things I know for myself and things I believe because he told me.

Dad reassured me he didn't make up stuff that was fundamentally important. And if he made something up it'd be trivial enough to be easily disproven if I throught about it carefully enough or did a bit of fact finding. And that I should treat things I think I know and things I think he told me with equal skepticism, because both of us may have made things up or believe things that aren't true.

And that's when I woke up.

I tried to remember what it was that we were discussing, what was the contradiction and what was the thing dad claimed he made up. But I simply couldn't remember any of it.

the boat dream

we were in a powerboat. it was a bright, sunny day, blue skies with just a few wisps of cloud. we were just heading off the coast, out of a marina. it was quite warm, but the boat had its fabric roof on. the roof had transparent windows all around to see out of. I was sitting at the back of the boat, not on a seat but on the back of the boat itself. there were a few other people (about four or five) seated in the rest of the boat ahead of me, and there were a couple of vacant seats in the last row. the seat on the rear left had a wheel and a throttle, but the skipper was at the front at the main set of controls.

we were somewhere off the coast of Northern Ireland - although it's hard to say exactly where we were. as we got out of the marina into the sea, we turned toward the left and followed the coast, while gradually moving away from it. I pointed out that there was a strange swirling formation of clouds towards the right, over the ocean. The skipper looked at it too but didn't react to it. Other people in the boat commented to each other that they've never seen such a thing before. The general reaction was of curiosity and not concern, and we continued as before.

I noticed the boat was speeding up, although the engine didn't see to be running any faster. The course we were moving on was also weird - we were being pushed along the coast and toward it. As the boat picked up speed, it seemed to be curving back towards the coast. The speed was crazy now, and things were moving really quickly. We seem to be being pushed into a port of sorts, which had a wide entrance which branched off into a few jetties. It seemed like the skipper tried to avoid getting pushed into the port by turning to the right and accelerating a bit. It didn't seem to help - we were pushed into the port anyway, but as a result of trying to avoid it we were now very close to the right side of it. Given the speed we were going at and the proximity of the jetties it didn't look good at all. I'm not sure if I said it out loud or thought to myself but I found myself going "no, no, no!"

The next thing I noticed was there was a rock coming up towards us on our right side. As the boat sped towards it, I remember thinking to myself that this is it and it's going to be a terrible disaster. I quickly grabbed the steering column and got myself into the seat behind it. Just then the boat hit the rock, or it felt like it should have. There was no actual feel of the impact though - the boat just seemed to slide up it and launch up into the air. It quickly spun counter-clockwise, and we hit the water upside down.

Time seemed to almost stop and the moments stretched to what felt like an eternity.

The cabin was now in the water and the boat was above it. The fabric hood kept the water out though, but I knew it was a matter of seconds before the water was in. I took a deep breath and looked at the water outside us. We were still moving, and the skipper was shouting something at everyone - I think she was trying to get us to one side so our weight would get the boat to spin around back up. Everyone moved to the left, which was the side I was already on.

The boat continued to rotate counter-clockwise so it felt like it would right itself, but it was slowing down so I really hoped it would right itself before it stopped.

As the boat was now getting on its side and water rushed in. As I took another deep breath, I clutched the handle on top of the control column and closed my eyes just as I felt the water wash over my body. It didn't feel as cold as I was expecting it to be, but we were quickly submerged and completely underwater. I just kept my eyes shut and kept my mind as blank as I could so that my last breath lasted as long as possible. I felt the boat continue to move but ignored it to keep my mind clear. I could see the light filtering through my eyelids and from almost pitch-dark it was beginning to get brighter.

After what seemed like an eternity it seemed like the light outside filtering through my eyelids was as bright as daylight. Surprisingly, my face also felt like it was no longer under water and I opened my eyes and simultaneously took a deep breath.

We were still in the boat, and it had righted itself. I didn't notice the water in the boat, as I was so focused on the environment outside. The hood had ripped off and the boat was now open from above. We had almost stopped moving and were coming alongside a pontoon on the left. The pontoon was right next to the shore (the other side of the pontoon was touching land) and there were trees growing off the land that looked almost tropical - they were broad trees with thick green leafy foliage. As we got towards the pontoon and the trees covered the sky above, I closed my eyes again and the light filtering though looked greenish though my eyelids. Before I could finish my thoughts about being thankful to be safe, I heard the skipper should that we need to attach ourselves to the pontoon before the boat drifted off or hit it or sank. There was a rope tied to the side of the boat and the rest of it was lying loosely inside the boat. I grabbed the rope and managed to loop the bit between the end that was attached to the boat and the bit that was in my hand to a cleat on the pontoon as soon as it was within arms reach.

Another person on the boat managed to do the same and we stopped moving immediately. The boat was being pushed against the pontoon so it was easy to hop off the boat and we all were off quickly - I was one of the last people to get off as I was holding the rope and had not tied it after looping it around the cleat. The pontoon was almost at shoulder level, and that's when I realized the boat was almost completely submerged and I was in water from the waist down.

I exhaled deeply as I climbed off the boat.

And that's when I woke up.