9. Asleep Yet Awake

“Are you alright, Atlas? Are you still asleep? It is 5 o clock.” It was Alex, the voice that drove me out of that scary place.

“The dreams are terrible yet, so meaningful.” I tried smiling at her, she looked terrified. Alex would never understand the dreams, she is the best in understanding the human mind, but the sense of mysticism always irritated her.

“Atlas, read less. You are driving yourself into these dreams, and I am afraid you are doing something to your head. I will make you soup, and if you sleep for more than 10 hours, I am calling Dr Louis.” I could not reply to her concerns, I wish I could share the most absurd but beautiful dreams with my wife, but what I have learned over the years of our marriage is her rational set up.

The one thing about her that makes us different from each other is my tendency to drift with thoughts and hers to restrict me, she balances my take on literature. Dr Louis is another rational human who would go to the extent of insulting me on my writings, his feedbacks always helped me in putting together pieces for the radical minds, but his presence used to be imitating. Dr Louis would be the last person I would share my dreams with, I had o visit to the college, I knew Irfan would understand these visions.

Soon, Alex was there with the best soup in the world, in our place for the daily therapy.

“Louis can be helpful, he is a psychiatrist, he might be knowing some mental exercises to calm the rush of thoughts, your fever is gone as well.” she could deduce I was alright just by the touch.

“How was your day? Are you happy with the work?” I had no choice but to change the topic.

“The work was not the problem, you never checked your phone, I was worried.” I picked up my phone, 7 missed calls, all from Alex. And an email, the same adress, which Irfan used before. I opened the mail on the phone and could see a verse and the word rumi at the end. Brought a smile on my face.

The verse continued, sir. It hit me in the camp, I use my friend’s device to email, donnot reply on this mail id. 

 

You, who have fallen asleep in the boat of the body,

You have seen the water.

Now, look upon the water of water.

There is a water which empowers the water;

There is a spirit which moves the spirit

Rumi

7. The Talking Vedas

The empty living room was a catalyst for my brain. I was working on a book, a story that would redefine the boundaries of religion. Every time I looked at the religious books resting on the table in the bright light from the windows, the voice of my father would resonate in my head.

I wonder what they all say. I do wonder what the authors wanted to tell the world. But what we need to know is that there is no hate, no critic to the foundation of the paths. You must be bored already. Sweet dreams, son.

I was never bored from his takes on life. I wondered the same, I taught the English translation of Mahabharata in the last semester, but nothing really made sense to me. Veda Vyasa, the immortal who cannot tell the world what his story tried to do. It seemed we puzzled up the inscriptions.

Everyday with Alex’s door bell my adventure to find meanings would come to an end.

“Hi there, how was the day?” Taking her bag from her hand followed by the hug was indeed a pleasant pause from the day.

“Lot of work. I can fall asleep any moment now. How was your class? The boy?” she walked into the room, took out the salads from the morning and sat down on the chair.

“I brought you fruits to add into the salad.” I smiled and took fresh berries out of the fridge. “It was really good, he told me things about his journey. Apparently, we have the same favourite poet.”

I joined Alex with the food, kissed her cheek to have a look at her smile. ” I am so tired today, Atlas. Let’s sleep early alright.”

“Yes, sure. Calm down, I will get some time to research as well.”



I placed my hand on my head. The right side of my head, I must have slept in a wrong way, I thought. My eyes took some time to envelop a sight that could only be a dream. I dream in which I was conscious but not in the real world.

Water, everywhere, not to be felt in my arms but everywhere and apparently I was not drowning in the massive ocean. I took the time to assemble my neck to look around and I could only see another man sitting over the ocean with folded legs. His beard was long floating with the waves, his hair as well. A greyish boundary around him isolating him from the empty ocean.

I felt scared and shouted out to the man, ” Hey! Where are we?” I did not even know what to ask the silent creature. He was sitting in peace his eyes were closed, the face was void and expressionless. Wrinkles covered his face, the rest of the body was covered with a white cloth.

Veda Vyasa is always alive in the mind of seekers. After all, that is the purpose of immortality and literature.

“What? Is this you? What do you mean? Where are we? Can you hear me?” I was only afraid of the place, I could not move or think. Not a dream, for sure.

Hello, Atlas. You are falling sick. And believe me, nobody manifests their head to bring out Vyasa from my writings. People like to read and never think what I want to preach, they make the text their own. They take pride in reading and it makes my lesson brittle to its core. It has been Millenniums, the message is lost, why do you seek it? I am Vyasa, you made me come into your head. And believe me, child, you are sick.

“You are telling me, I am in my own head having a conversation with the immortal Veda Vyasa about my next project? Insane.”

Insane, indeed. I tell you, you are sick. Seek help to end the sickness forever. I suffer from the same, believing and deceiving myself to be free to think and act. Immortal? Yes, I am so sick. I am immortal in their heads, you know. The stupid beliefs, they make me suffer.They take the Vedas and curse another being. They read the scriptures and think the Kings are to be worshipped. Inferno. Inferno to my head, once in for all. Now you are driving in the scriptures to the morals. Inferno. Inferno to you too my friend. Let the ocean heal your burns.

The man vanished into the ocean that started to hurt. The pain kept increasing. increasing to another level. I kept screaming, to escape the pain. But there was no way to escape. I kept screaming.

Atlas once hold the heaven, now it is time to bring the hell. For the inferno seeks a purpose in life, my friend. Let the ocean guide. Seek the ocean and stop their lies.

Inferno. Inferno has haunted every child. Inferno. Inferno is the place where love from religion collide.

3. Mornings

It was 6 in the morning, the phone alarm didn’t have to wake me up today. Alex was sleeping right next to me, never liked waking her up in the morning when I could just look at her and not think. My mind had been a wreck lately, so we decided on practising meditation every morning. I gently put my hands on her forehand.

“It’s 6 o clock. Let’s put our brains to sleep for a while now, dear.”

She woke up with the struggle of aa hard-working lady and an upset sleeping pattern. I hated waking her up but the meditation time was a must for her as well, she had a job to look after a whole chemical operating base in the city. Despite the fact, almost every morning it seemed that post meditation, the bed transformed into psychotherapy with my wife been my psychologist and handling my thoughts into a powerful structure. And today, I needed her for framing a lecture that shall uproot the void space that my students might have and the one mail I read, Irfan needed a straight pavement to find himself again.

“What Is the matter?” It was Alex looking into my lost eyes, one of those moments when you get lost in the thoughts and forget the actual visual. “Professor seems lost into his first lecture for the year, huh? “her voice could capture my attention as if home.

“I have this student with a massive story, he has struggled and lost himself somewhere on his way to Europe from Syria. Not by mistake or the dreadful loss of his family but deliberately he had to forget himself to come here and live a life. His name is Aadesh for the Europeans, the boy only has one manifestation of himself, his love for his ideals. Religious and social impaired.”

She had her way of looking into my eyes and telling me things that set apart the whole issue to me, unlike any other part of the day the mornings were silent and only accompanied a healthy conversation. “So, you will be telling them the story? The science, religion and magic. I never got it. But maybe the social impairment thing aligns with it. Let’s leave early today, have some meetings and I need to prepare the team for the same.” I held her hand and gave her a kiss. “I will talk to them about something, thanks. All the best for the day sweetheart. I have a few classes and then I need to start the new story.”