THE BOY WITH THE DREAM

6

I woke up bathed in sweat and my pulse vibrating. The rain had stopped pouring long ago and it was still dark outside that meant it might still be midnight. I stood up and went to look outside the glass window, shaking off the dazing memory of the dream I had just woke up from.

Why can I not forget her face? Why is it appearing in my vision again and again? What is wrong with me? I muttered to myself as I looked past the window to the open lawn of my neighbor. At first, my backyard came into my vision with its green grasses that had turned dark with midnight blue sky looming over it then, a small garden with a flower bed in one corner caught my vision. It had a swing adjacent to it with a small coffee table in a tiny hut structure at the front. The stones were exclusively brought from Croatia by my grandfather, Mr. Abhudaya Singh Rajput. It was typically rustic, but the white painted color gave it a modern touch that my mother adored it.

I felt the cool monsoon breeze splashing at my face and let out a relaxing sigh. Listening to the birds chirping in the environment, I turned to take my t-shirt from the couch and went downstairs to the backyard.

The last month had been a revolutionary period of my life where I had explored my heart and soul to the very edge of liberation. I had completed five more paintings with Sonia at the center and at multiple visionary places. I did not know why, but I could not get over her face. Her timid expression, deep eyes, and perfectly shaped eyebrows; everything about her was captivating. 

The school had started after a week of the night I had completed the Novia Del sueño (I had named it after much deliberation and research for I felt it to be close to my heart) and Sonia and I inched a bit closer and shared a moment or two during our school. Although, there was not much difference for there was nothing to be named as closed acquaintanceship, at least things were improving. 

I plugged in the earphones and began walking in circles, examining the plants as I listen to some old Indian melodies and hummed along with it. It was an old Indian song with new beats, a new version sang by some native Indians with a couple of differences in a few places. I stopped near the pink dianthus charidemi and began scrutinizing it as I felt the beats singing a lullaby in my ears pulling the strings of my heart. The pink dianthus symbolizes boldness, just the way my heart was going after the walk-in rain. I closed my eyes to enjoy the rhythm of the song on the iPod as I felt as if the song was made for me urging me to sing along the lyrics.

The song reached its final stanza and a new song began to ring in my ears shuffling through the playlist. It was an old ghazal-qawwali written by an Urdu poet Fana Buland Shehri and composed by Ustad Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. Touching the tinge of Sufi in its rhythm, the music began echoing in my ears, pumping the beats in the nerves. The song held more meaning than a simple man with an unspoken heart can decipher and a deep passion in it that will take you along the music to a new universe. The songs were made for wandering lovers like me who couldn't control the beat of their hearts that wanted to rip out of the pericardial cavity and fly out of the chest in a never-ending sky. His voice gave a serene peace to my soul that I was craving to experience. It made me connect with myself giving me a reason to listen to that song, pushing me to a state of daze.

Why do you feel this peace, Surya? It is not obviously the only time you are listening to it. Then, why this connection? What is so special about it? My heart questioned, and I found myself speechless to form an answer, but the brain put forward an image of a certain pink glasses Asian who not only took my breath away but has also conquered the peace of my mind with her cute adorable features and the delicate attitude.

I smiled remembering her cute face and hummed along, twirling in delight. 

“Stop smiling like an i***t. You are acting suspicious.” A voice in brain kicked in, making me curl my toes in shame. 

“I know. Cannot help it! What can I do if someone is just so darn adorable.” I replied, smiling. “I feel like meeting her again, talking to her. She is so tempting.”

“You need to get your brain checked, man. Get an appointment with a psychiatrist before it gets too late.” The voice spoke again. 

“Shut up brain! Bad! Bad! Brain.” 

“Just Saying, you have been lost so far lately and you are always smiling these days for no apparent reason.”  

“Maybe you are right!” 

“Hell, I am! Go get a checkup.” It spoke, making me analyze my past behavior which was indeed questionable.

I was indeed out of mind those days but whatever that feeling was it was just awesome, so unique that it felt unrealistic and purely magical. It felt like it was not there even and that I was just hallucinating. 

“Ahem ! Ahem!” The sound of someone clearing their throat caught my attention, slapping me back on earth from my La! La! A land where I was still twirling like a loon. I realized that the song had ended long ago; I was still humming it with my eyes closed. I peeked through my one eye only to find Dad leaning on the door with his hands folded to his chest staring at me keenly.

“Umm…Dad, you here? Need something?” I asked, taking the earphones out of my ears and turning the iPod off as I took a seat on the tea table while trying to calm the wildly beating heart. 

“Last time I checked; it was my house, authorizing access to every corner of these premises with reason or without one. Right, son?” He replied sarcastically.

“I think so.” Replied I, slightly embarrassed as I scratched the back of my neck, looking everywhere but him.

Dad shook his head in reply and advanced to take a seat near me. I did not notice the family album in his hands earlier but did so when he had put it on the table and smiled. “So son? How is your school going on? Got into trouble or something, yeah?” He asked.

“All good Dad. Having a match in a month. Why are asking?” I replied as nonchalantly as I can as I began shuffling the album and smiled at my parent's wedding photograph.

“Surya, Honey can you help me to carrying tea. I have got the hands occupied. My poor is ringing! It’s urgent!” Mom yelled from inside the house and I obliged, excusing myself from Dad. 

“Coming, Mom!” I gave Dad a quick nod and got up to help the mother in the kitchen.

 It took as about ten minutes for arranging the table, and by the time we were ready Ayaan had also joined our family gathering, accompanying me in our family time.

“Sur, Baby how is your school going? It’s your senior year; I hope you are focused, darling. You know how important it is for us, right? We have talked about it before, no distractions can be afforded.” Mother started and I nodded in understatement. It was not the first time we were talking about my future plans, the importance of getting a degree, and staying focused on turning my material dreams into reality. “You can enjoy all your college life. Girlfriends, parties, everything. Just don’t waste your time now! You wanna to tell us something? We can expect a better future, Baby? Can we?” Mother questioned with a pinch of suspicion in her voice, making me uncomfortable. Ayaan gave me a knowingly, nonetheless did not say anything. 

“Of course, Mom. It is the least I can do. All cool, trust me!” I replied confused over her suspicion.

“Yeah, Mrs. Rajput! Sur is all cool. In fact, we would be beating Foughlors the next month. The training is rigorous. We are hardly getting anytime for ourselves.” Ayaan added, coming forward for my rescue.   

“Happy to hear this, Ayaan. Numrita was worried the other day. heard you did not come to the home a whole night. Are you sure you are tired of training? Hugh, Surya? Are you, there ain’t anything you want to talk about.” Mother pressed harder making me frown. 

I knew I could make my decision and my concerns were none of her business and that she was invading not only mine, but also Ayaan’s privacy, but she was my mother and I wanted to do nothing that would hurt her. 

Ayaan shifted in his seat uncomfortably and gulped down his juice in one gulp. We shared a look and he knew it would be a wise decision to stay silent. 

“Stop beating around the bush, darling. You are making the boys uncomfortable. I am sorry boys. Your mother wasn’t trying to spy, but there is something we want to talk about. May I?” Dad asked indicating something with his eyes. I nodded my head and straightened myself as Ayaan copied my gestures. 

My parents shared a look, accelerating my heartbeats and I felt a drop of sweat traveling from my chest to the lower abdomen.

Oh my god! They are again talking with their eyes, again. You are finished, Sur. Someone must have told them about your visit to the strip club. Jesus Christ, save me!

“Umm…Mr. Rajput if there is something bothering you can ask us right away. We are all clean.” Ayaan jumped in defense as he patted my thighs beneath the table rather awkwardly.

“No…yes! Son, actually your mom was found some questionable paintings in the study. It is of a girl. Your mother says she saw the girl in your school, you know. She is just worried about if you…are…you see hanging out together. Are you hiding anything?” His voice trailed off as Dad tried to put the question in precise words. The realization had hit me hard at the mention of Novia Del sueño and I curled up in front of three scrutinizing eyes in shame and embarrassment.

“Sur, Honey we just want to know the reason. Is there anything in between both of you? Are you guys dating?” Mother questioned, making me crimson mortified. “You are not doing in anything that you will regret, right?” 

“WHAT! No Mom! There is nothing like that.” I exclaimed loudly. “We are not even friends. We share a couple of classes together that’s it. I promise I am not going behind your back, Mom trust me.” 

My dad gave me a disapproving look and I quickly apologized for the pitch of my voice.

“Then why are you painting her continuously? Do you like her?” Mother asked ignoring my apologies rather seriously.

“I don’t know if I do or I do not. Nowadays I don’t know anything. I was just trying to improve my art. I promise, this is it!”