The Dreamer

The deer jumped over the creek and crossed it in a blink of an eye. It was swift. The boy just managed to cling on to the neck of the brawny animal to stop from falling over. The stag raced on. They were getting deeper into the forest now. Darkness was threatening to fall from all sides; the gaps between the leaves had started vanishing into it. Even the golden foliage on the forest ground had started to turn black. The boy kicked the deer softly on its rear to make it go faster. He wanted to reach before the night fell. Suddenly the stag dug its hoofs into the ground and came to an abrupt halt; the boy fell over into a huge opening. It was the sky. He was flying into it. Flying over the river at the edge of the forest. Higher and higher he went. The boy was feeling so alive; with fresh, dewy air beating his pointed face. The wind had started hurting him now but he wanted to go faster. He was enjoying it. All of a sudden the sun came out full blow into his face. He couldn’t see anymore. It was beating his eyes. A voice fell in his ear. Someone was calling him. At first he thought the sound was coming from the river. He looked down. The voice called again, this time a slight tuck in the legs followed the voice. The voice was coming through the lightness, he realized. Again a tuck, this time slightly stronger. He didn’t want to look down on whom or what was causing it. He just wanted to avoid it and fly higher. The voice was getting clearer and nearer. Strangely he felt that the voice was very very familiar. It had started to ring in his ears now. Shrill and strident, yet it had a strange softness; it was his mother’s voice.

The boy woke up from his dream, wonderful dream it was though. He wanted more of it. Lazily and grouchily he got from his bed. His mother planted a kiss on his forehead and wished him Good Morning. He wished her back and drew a hand through his tousled grizzled hair. That was more out of a habit now than need. Maybe it was because he had lately started getting conscious about his looks. He would turn 14 in a few weeks time now.

It was just 6 in the morning. His mother went out of the room. The boy looked out of the window of his garret and enjoyed the morning view for a couple of minutes. A tiny red bird was chirping away into the first light of the day outside his window. He went near it but it took off into the sun. He let the morning breeze sweep him gently. After some minutes his mother again called.

“Sweetheart c’mon get ready, your tennis coach would have arrived already, don’t be late.”

Grumpily he moved away from the window and looked at into the mirror. A pointed curious face looked back at him. Large brown eyes, short grizzled hair and a chubby little nose. The boy pulled his nose, he hated his flabby nose; it just didn’t go along with his chin. The nose remained as it was and he gave it one final sad look and went ahead. The boy really did not care that the nose gave him a strange look.

He grabbed his bicycle and raced off into the daybreak sun. He loved his bike. It was shiny black and just the perfect height for him. He had got special rubber tires fitted into it which gave the bike the look of a hybrid between a cycle and a motorcycle. The stag had become a bike now and once again he was racing through the forest. This time it was a different forest though. Much less dense and small stupid squirrels kept coming in his way. He had woken out of one dream, only to be in another.

That was very normal for him. Whole day the boy used to spend living in dreams. He did not have any friends and he didn’t care. Just a couple of guys he talked with, though never hung around with any of them.

The boy liked being alone, in his fantasyland all the time. In school, during classes he was off into the mountains being chased by a yeti or in the meadows catching giant talking fishes. People too did not bother him much as they found him strange. Boys were scared of his dreamy eyes and girls thought him to be weird. He too never took the pain of fraternizing with anybody. He liked his world and never wanted to come out of it.

There was one girl though; whom he had taken a liking for. He did not talk to her, because he didn’t care for her to like him back. She was really pretty. Long auburn hair, bright red lips and very dark mysterious eyes with a perfect little nose. It was her eyes that the boy liked so much and it was because of her he did not like his nose. Still, he didn’t care enough.

There had been a class test last week. Today the results were to be announced. The boy had done well but he hoped no miracles. The papers were now being given out. The tall lad with the round glasses sitting on the front bench got 28. The girl with sticky hair sitting three rows in front of him got 29. The boy heard the teacher calling out his name.

“Roll no. 29 - 30 marks.”

He was ecstatic. Everybody was applauding him for getting the highest marks. The pretty girl was also clapping. He glimpsed her face, she smiled back. The boy felt a throb somewhere near in his chest, maybe it was his heart missing a beat. He was the hero of the class.

Pat! Something hurt him. It was his right ear. The boy turned around. The teacher was turning his ear like a cork-screw. He looked around. Whole class was laughing at him deliriously. Even the pretty girl was laughing. He felt his both his ears grow very hot. The teacher scolded him for day-dreaming in the class and slapped his answer booklet on the table. He had got 19.

The boy wanted to score better, maybe the girl would notice, but he never worked hard for it. He just didn’t care enough.

The school got over at 1 in the afternoon when the sun was thumping down on the streets in treacherous anger.

The boy used to drive sluggishly through the streets he knew would be isolated at this hour of the day. He did not like the main road. The cars always kept honking there and it had too much traffic. This way was longer but it was better. He could never concentrate on the main road. It made him uneasy. Today was no different, or was it?

He had been driving for half an hour now, in his own slumber of thoughts. It was a long isolated road he was riding through. As he passed a small shop which was always closed, he noticed a short, stout man looking at shop with great restlessness. He was fidgeting his pockets looking for something. The boy did not know what made him stop. He didn’t care enough. Still he stopped by and offered to help. The man had a very out of the place feel. He did not seem to fit in the surroundings.

“Hey there, you seem lost. May I be of some help to you?” The boy enquired.

The man turned towards him. A slight grin came across his face, but vanished the very next moment.

“No thanks. I think I forgot the keys to my shop. I’ll just go back and get them.”

The boy felt strange. He had rarely seen people walking this street, nor had he ever seen the shop open. He had been biking through this road for a couple of months now.

“Can I offer you a lift? Where do you live?” The boy asked.

“I live just a couple of lanes round the corner, not very far from here. I will be ok. Thank you for asking.”

The boy didn’t care enough. He wished him good day and got on his bike back to home. As he pedaled away, the man started to walk. The boy noticed that the man limped as he walked and that caused him pain. He made a revolting face after the limp. The boy turned his cycle and drove up to him.

“See, I do not mind driving you till your house.”

The man hesitated, but accepted. He was so short that very easily he adjusted himself on the front rod of the bicycle.

The boy rode and the man gave directions to his house. They talked along the way. The boy found himself talking to this guy very freely. He liked it. He could never do that to his schoolmates.

The man’s house was a small, shabby looking one in the corner of a small lane. The man invited him inside and offered him water. The boy met the man’s mother too. She was very old. It seemed she would just fade away, if one kept looking at her.

The short guy told him about his family. He had an elder brother who was a hot-shot doctor of the town. The boy thought he faintly recognized the name of his brother, though not very sure. He did not care. But this brother had passed away last year and his brother’s wife had moved out. The shop was his father’s and had been locked for quite some time now. The short guy had been in the army and had returned only a couple of weeks ago as he had been shot in the leg and could not serve the forces any more.

The boy drove the man back to his shop, this time with the keys. He went back home and later in the evening asked his dad about the doctor brother that man was talking about. His father told him that he was a famous doctor of his times but had passed away last year. The boy did not tell his father or anybody else about the day’s incident. He didn’t care enough to mention it.

Next day, on the way back from school, the boy again found the man outside his shop looking for keys. The boy found it very bizarre but still helped him again. The boy was starting to like this guy’s companionship. That day, the man told him that he had been treated for mental illness, but now he was in good condition, just used to keep forgetting things. The boy didn’t care, he just liked being with this guy.

They became friends. Sometimes, though quite rarely, the man remembered to bring the keys and used to open the shop before the boy passed that way. It was a small shop and the boy was sure nobody ever bought anything from this shop. They used to chat about any and everything for long times. The boy even told him about the girl he liked. For once, the boy thought he had a friend. He was even less lost nowadays, though that made him anxious at times.

Then one day, just a week before his 14th birthday, the boy as usual passed the shop, only to find it closed and the man not around. He didn’t care and rode back home. Next day, he was sure of meeting him but did not. Still he didn’t care enough.

On his fourteenth birthday the boy woke up to find a couple of presents by his bedside. They were from his parents. He thought he would have loved one from that man as well but then realized that the short guy did not know when his birthday was. Where was the man though he thought? He got none from any of his schoolmates, one from the girl though would have been perfect, but he didn’t care much. He preferred it that way.

His father gave him a Rs. 1000 note that morning to treat his friends at school. The boy thought of the short man. He wanted to share this with him.

Nobody at school wished the boy but he didn’t mind as he was restlessly waiting for the school to get over so that he could go and meet that short guy. For the first time in his life he cared. Cared to meet the guy and talk to him. Cared to spend time with that man. Cared to hang around with that man. Cared to share a laugh with the short guy.

The school got over at 1, as usual, though it seemed like an eternity to the boy. He raced his stag once again. The boy was so sure today that he would reach the end of the forest. It was his birthday.

He reached the shop but it was still closed. The man was nowhere to be seen. He was determined today. He rode his bike to that man’s house. It was locked. He went around the house but could not find a soul. He felt really bad that the man had gone away without even bothering to tell him. Still the boy wanted an answer. He walked up to the neighboring house and rang the door-bell.

A porky faced man with a large moustache came out of the door in spotted vests and shorts.

“What do you want boy?” he shouted.

The boy realized that it was afternoon and the man might be taking a nap.

“Sir, I just wanted to ask about the man living next door. The house is locked and I have something to give to him. Can you please tell me where I can find him” The boy spoke politely.

The man looked at the boy with disbelieving eyes.

“Hey kid, runaway. This house has been locked for over a year now”

The boy was shocked. Still, he regained himself

“But, I met the guy few days back and also his mother.”

The porky faced man got angry.

“You, don’t mess with me boy. Don’t play games.”

“but….”

“but, what?”

“but I am not lying, sir”

“You, listen fella. The owner of this house died a year back. His wife moved out. His mother lived here for some months alone and then she too passed away. The doctor had a brother who came back from the army after his mother’s death. He was injured and developed a mental situation living alone. He became a danger to even himself. The hospital took him away. Couple of months later we got the news that the guy had also died.

Now you don’t fool around and run away. I’m trying to sleep here.” And he banged the door on the boy’s stunned face.

The boy could not believe it. Had he been dreaming all this time? But it never felt like one. Or was he in a dream now. He lost touch with reality. He felt like crying, feeling sorry for himself as well as his short friend. He mounted his bike and rode back. He was so sure he would meet the guy today. The boy did not feel like going home. For the first time he had someone close to being called a friend. The boy felt a great loss from within. He did not want to go back the same road ever again. The boy took the main road.

It was very noisy and full of traffic. The boy didn’t care. Not at-least now. His eyes were welled up with tears. He felt cheated. His only friend had cheated him. The boy drove on the stag. He couldn’t see anymore, the animal was galloping so fast. He was racing through the forest but this time the short guy was sitting in front of him. Both of them were laughing away into the falling sun.

Suddenly there was a loud noise, a collision and a crash.

The front tire of the bike fell apart. The handle lay on the other side of the road askew. A thin stream of blood trickled by the bicycle. The 1000 rupee note flew on the road into the drain by the road. It sank slowly into the water flowing through the gutter.

But, the boy didn’t care. He along with his friend drove on deeper into the forest. He was sure he would reach the end of the forest today. It was his birthday.

The dreamer dreamt on. For the first time though, it was not a dream.