I dream of death

Everyone dreams, and some dreams are more memorable than other. I dream loads and some of the most wonderful stuff (though not of genies, not yet that is).  While there are dreams that are older and more memorable, I will however share with you one that I had today in the morning as it one of the few dreams that I was able to do things in; a lucid dream of sorts as I could talk and move as I pleased in some cases.
I was sitting in Landmark that is close to my place in Baroda. I was comfortably seated on a couch and reading a book I had just purchased while a cup of coffee lay on the table. Now I know that this landmark doesn’t have a coffee joint in it anymore, but hey it’s a dream and I didn’t want to nitpick on free coffee. I notice this man walk past by me towards the washroom. I couldn’t help but think that I had seen him a couple of times before. He was wearing a fedora hat and that is a rare thing, in India for the least. So the dream me tries to remember, and has an image of him walking by my mom’s house while I stood outside in the veranda talking to a neighbour. After he comes out of the washroom I go and ask him if we have met before since he seems familiar to me. The man nods and says that he is the angel of death and that we have met a couple of times before.
“Huh, angel of death? What are you doing in a book store then?”
“Doing my job, taking people off my list to see that they die.”
“Is it now, you must show me how it works then.” And he stared at me for a moment as if I had told something that he couldn’t understand.

For future reference if you’re in my dream, and if I tell you to show me how something works, you will show me how it works. You’re in my dream, and well that is how I dream. I will extend the same courtesy to you should I ever come in to your dreams. Although I don’t know how it works if you dream of me. Would I be lucid too? But you know I lose all memory of it once you wake. Anyway, moving on
“Ok, I have names in my book as part of a list that I must ensure die.”
“So how do you do that?”
“I strike their name of, and think of a way they must die and they die.”
“Oh, like that anime Death note I saw on Animax?”
“Manga too, they pretty much got the concept right.”
“Teach me, how it is done.”
“See that woman over there? Her name is Radha Varma. Now this is her name on my list, and I strike it off. Now I want her to buy a DVD for her grand kids and watch it with them over a good meal. When she sleeps she must think that it is just some indigestion, but it will be a heart attack instead.”
And then there was a montage of us going around take people off his list. So while we were sitting in a place and I was going through his book, I saw my name on a page with an ellipse around it.
“Tell me, why my name is written here like that. What does it mean?”
“A circled name means that I was supposed to knock off the person, but didn’t”
 “So why did you let me go that time.”
“Six times in all, I had orders from up top that told me not to do so.”
“Like a close shave you mean? But I don’t remember six instances like that.”
“Only two, others were orders. A word of advice, you really need to start working out.”
“Dude, what the hell?”
And then he smiled and I woke up from my dream. It was around 0830 in the morning because I check for my mobile and spectacles when I get up. I called for mom and she was in the other room sweeping. So I told her that I dreamt of a ‘Yamdoot’ (the closest Hindi translation of an angel of death I could think of) and that he was told to let me off six times so far, and that he asked me to work out. She looks at me (probably thinking why of all possible kids, she had to get me) and tells me that I will listen to a Yamdoot, but not her. I had a sassy reply ready but seeing the broom in her hand, I did not push my luck for a seventh time.
Now I wonder if I can write my training as angel of death on my CV. 
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Love, hate and love-hate

Love, hate and love-hate can be the oddest or the simplest feelings one can have. Here are some of things for which I feel them:

Love:

• I love my work, and more so when I complete the work. The tougher the better. Sure sometimes when I get tough things to do it can get taxing and burdening but then when I can get it done with it feels even more invigorating.

• Cats. Cats live the way they want. They’ll play along with you as long as you can amuse them. It is believed that you cannot have a cat; the cat just hangs around as long as it feels so.

• The color blue. Blue is the color of a flame at its highest efficiency. That is why.

• The Statue of liberty. That is one marvelous piece, and is screaming and beaming its meaning and significance out. The lady is carrying a light in one hand and books in another. It is knowledge and reason that you light your way with when you’re lost in the darkness of turmoil.

Hate:

• Incompetence. I hate the point that people can be incompetent at their work and not do anything about it. SO one may not his or her work but that does not stop them from learning what is needed to do it right. The competent and strong should never have to suffer for the incompetent and weak. That I can at times indulge in it makes me hate it even more.

• Unreasonable people. The thing about unreasonable people is that you cannot reason with them. No matter how much you try, show them the facts and reason but they’ll just refuse to accept things the way they are. Like someone once said, “Never argue with a fool, it becomes difficult to tell who the bigger one is.”

• Leeches/Leechers: People who think that they can leech off people, who produce, create and develop. Life is not about what you want and need but what you deserve. If you cannot earn it then you do not deserve it.

• Respect-standards thing: We’ve been brought up in this section of the world to respect those elder to us. I asked why? Why must my standard of respect be that of age? Just because someone may be older to me does not mean that they will get my respect de facto. Be it relatives, siblings, teachers etc. I mean there are many teachers who I respect solely for the sake of the position they hold by means of being cordial with them but few teachers are there who have my genuine respect for the people they are.

Love-Hate:

• The thing with mom. I started as a docile and ideal child. Always listening to my elders, well behaved and respectful of others. Then as and when I grew up and started understanding things I started questioning, doubting, and thinking and acting of my own. My mom and I have been brought up differently (and in different environments). Our perception of things and events is different. We are from different schools of thoughts. My mom has mostly a traditional and slightly conservative set of mind. I make my own opinions and decisions. My mom has been through tough times to raise me up (with my dad having died when I was 6 and her in laws being their unscrupulous best). I respect that and adore her for that. But that does not mean I have to agree with her on things, and share her way of thinking. I like my independent way of thinking and working that is based on m perceptions and not on that of others. We get in to heated discussions at times that do not end on an amiable note many times. We’ve found getting along with each other difficult at times.

It’s been a long time since I posted my last blog, but you all can thank her for this one.