I was running at a fast pace fearing for life, seemed something was chasing me from behind. I had no place to hide and I was afraid to look back, fearing for life. For me it was the end of the earth and I was hanging in the air. I screamed for help. There was no sign of help and all I could see were the dark clouds laughing repulsively at me. I was about to die in the valley of solidarity and no one was ever going to find me out. I closed my eyes to avoid seeing the face the final fury of my death. The ground was nowhere in the sight and I was still down, deep down, and then suddenly I opened my eyes. I found myself on my bed – sweating and pounding heart with fast beats. My throat was dry and I had all the water in the bottle without realizing it was more than I could take in.
It was one of the worst dreams of my life. I could not sleep; I sat by my bed still sweating. The darkness in the room started to haunt me. I could feel big bad eyes staring at me. I could not stay in the darkness and switched on all the lights, washed my face and sat to think what the dream was all about.
Hardly in some time, I understood the dream. A few days back I had an argument with her and me being the little over-possessive type of person, led us to serious sorts of differences, which we did sort of but the fear of losing her over a pity issue haunted me.
This fear had taken a place in my mind so bad that it resulted in such a dark and horrific dream. Throughout the dream, I was running away from the fear of loneliness which haunted me. The next morning I called and insisted on meeting her. I shared my fears and the dream with her and we vowed to remain by each other’s side always, no matter what the circumstances could be. I cannot think of a life without her now, not a life full of loneliness, never…
Being *Nadaan* @ (Twitter Handle)
I write a lot, which keeps me off the streets and out of trouble. There is always something to write about, always a new story to craft. Not writing, for me, is like trying to hold back a sneeze. Learning to write was the most powerful influence in my life. I can still remember the awe I felt when I realized I could put real words onto paper and tell out a story. From that first ‘a-ha’ moment I knew I wanted to write.
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