Dreams flash on the screen of my half-shut eyelids like multi-coloured slides mounted on an automated reel. In a conical beam of grey-white light; illuminating each blood corpuscle that comes in its path, the way sun rays light up the dust motes.Through the narrow slits of my sleep-doused eyes I watch them escape. They appear as masses of cloud-shaped white candy floss with specks of silver here and there…fine knit with gossamer strands of desire and wisps of wishes. During the REM each of these are being pushed out by the darting eyeballs: one fluff after another.
These dream-clouds seem to be looking for a way out of the house. Some lay flattened as white splotches on a window pane; some get lodged in the ventilation ducts of the air conditioner while some get choked in the chimney. The tinier ones make it through the door gaps or key holes. Floating upward like helium balloons, all of them attempt to cross the clouds before sunrise, as if they glow only while it is dark.

Yesha Shah