A Dream House

I grew up in a bungalow belonging to an NRI couple who had given it off on rent to us. I would play in the garden, jump in and out of the rooms through the large windows and dip in the backyard pond. Summer evenings meant I would be in one of the mango trees.

When I was 13, the owners asked us to vacate as they were coming back to India. It was a sad moment for our family, but my father immediately set on a search for another house to rent. The one he chose was the best he could afford, but it was nowhere like the bungalow.

The night before we were to shift, I saw a dream. I dreamt that the bungalow, along with the ground underneath, was floating inside a golden ball that shot through red space. The house looked like artwork inside a paperweight. I was there, first outside, and then inside the ball. I glided above the garden and flew in and out of the house through the flapping doors and windows. I could not see my hands or feet. I was the wind. I flew past, and I flew through everything; I changed directions at will and swept the entire bungalow with my being.

When I woke up in the morning, I told my dream to my sister.

"Through your dream, you have left an image of yourself here. Like a ghost. Maybe the landowners will see that and call us back to live because they wouldn't want to live here," my sister said.

Twenty-five years later, when I was back in town, I went to see the bungalow. It was evening, and all the lights were off. Perhaps the occupants were not home. I held the gate and stood to look at the bungalow, the veranda, the garden, the mango trees. I could not see the pond, but I knew where it was. And then, I saw a kid run across the garden in white flannel trousers and a red mickey mouse T-shirt. It was an image of my 13-year-old self. Another 13-year-old self was on the tree, eating mangoes. Another just across the path. I stayed another 10 minutes watching them play, and then I turned around.

My sister was right. Through my dream, I had left images of me throughout the house. But alas, those images were visible to me alone.