Illusionary Vision or visionary illusion.

How many times have you dreamt of running naked on the streets? How many times have you visualized yourself unaided amongst thousands of people?

This is a dream that I see very often. It is too weird to see yourself in your own dreams without clothes. I mean come on being a girl I should be embarking on better flights of fantasy with some good men. But no, some anti- sexual fantasy element in my genes is not too happy or I wonder, is that so-called (or uncalled) element in my body another MCP. Ok now I am not an avid fan of sexism so back to my wired dreams.

I have always been a petrified child when it came to listening to ghost stories. Even the best of brainless horror Hindi flicks gave me sleepless nights. I used to dream of a massive orange kangaroo peeping into my room who always tried to scare the shit out of me. I visualized obese aunties with open hair and white chiffon saris with a candle and a yellow set of teeth walking towards me at night. These descriptions make a good laugh and the senseless visualizations is like added masaala but I know for a fact that I was only less of shitting in my pants when I dreamt of all this.

As I grew up, the aunties in my dreams transformed into Veerappans and some funny looking guys. One of those funny looking guys from my nightmares transformed into a horrendous skinny man who wore only a thick beard and red chaddis…I was busy shopping with my cousins for New Year’s Eve. I was no older than 12 years. The entire scenario still dances in front of my eyes..

We had finished shopping and were on our way home when my cousins (read: pretty girls) abruptly increased their pace. The sloppy girl that I am was lost in my own customized world when they asked me to walk quickly for reasons I did not bother to ask. I agreed and started hurrying up when I realized that I could not walk anymore. There was something funny holding me back. And all of a sudden, my heart sank when I realized that I was strangled with a thick rope around my waist. And when I turned around to see who was the person to do this Tarzan act, I was in for a déjà vu. That man was a living nightmare, (let me call him Skimpy) with no flesh and all bones covered with red chaddis and long hair and beard was staring at me. His bloodshot eyes were giving me the worst gawk I ever got in my lifetime of 12 years. I was flummoxed, I didn’t know if it was a nightmare again because I had never heard of anybody strangling girls in daylight on a highway..

It took me a minute to get my voice and senses back on track. I started with a squeaky shriek, which later transformed into the loudest roar. My cousins who were on the other side of the road were asking me not to move from the path. I was bewildered and didn’t know what to do. I started running towards the highway with Mr. Skimpy tagging behind me like the pug in of the commercials (Only the pug is one of the cutest forms of life and Skimpy was one of the ugliest). I had lost all my sanity (i.e. whatever I had gathered so far) when I was trapped. So the sight looked like: I was yelling at the highest notch level with my hands in the hair and running in long tight skirts and boots (whoever made long tight skirts for teenagers) towards the highway and Mr. Skimpy in his chaddis getting dragged. I know its too funny of a sight and I thank my luck that I didn’t bang into one of the trucks and buses speeding on the highway. There were traffic cops, hawkers and my cousins running behind me asking me to stop but I was on a different trip altogether. Maybe I could have outshone a marathon runner at that moment.

Had it not been for a street hawker then, I would have easily rammed into another bus speeding towards Skimpy and me. The good Samaritan caught hold of me and slapped me while Skimpy was smiling at my back. He took out the rope off my waist and slapped Skimpy and I think that was the most non-reactive slap I have ever seen. Skimpy was still grinning. What the hell did he think of himself that a teenager was eloping with him or was I his Jane? The traffic cops took Skimpy along and asked my cousins to take me home safely. My eldest cousin hugged me and I started crying my heart out. I was shivering, trembling, and passed out in my cousin’s arms.

I opened my eyes after couple of hours with the most soothing comfort of my parents around me. I was aware that I was out of Skimpy’s territory but the fear of him stalking me gave me creeps. This incident shook me and I couldn’t speak to anybody for couple of days because every time I opened my mouth to speak I thought that people would think even I am insane like Skimpy.

After a month, one of my mom’s friends told me that Skimpy was a mentally retarded chap who used to jump on the ceilings of the slums around and shit on them. He wore only his famous red chaddis and sometimes gave them an off too.
His hang out places were in my neighborhood and that gave me all the more reasons to get paranoid.

It took me quite sometime to put this silly (I can proudly call it silly after 12 years) incident behind me. I wonder what I would do now if Mr. Skimpy came and stood in front of me with his famous red chaddis. But this incident helped me bid goodbye to all the aunties, kangaroos and infamous personalities from my dreams.

I am and will always be indebted to Mr. Skimpy for the reality check that he gave me. Now as a grown up girl I have better personalities and bodies and…….. to dream about……J

P.S. Did Skimpy ever change his chaddis?