I Dream
Alone
3 questions need to asked regarding dreams.
1. Why do we dream?
2. Whats the mechanism of dreaming?
3. What are the effects of a dream on us after we dreamt the dream.
Obviously, the best way to begin to answer these questions is by analyzing our dreams.
The problem with dreams is that - we tend to forget them. But, at the same time dreams get recorded in our memories, just as whatever we see or think or feel gets recorded. So, it is not the problem of memories of dreams - it is the problem of accessing our dreams. It means that dreams are dreamt in a different state of mind, other than the state of our day-today consciousness. I don't know if can use the word subconscious here, so let me just use the word 'dream-state'.
In my experience, the dream-state is the most creative state of all my states of mind. The emotions I have felt during dreams were hundred times more powerful than any emotions I have felt while imagining or while watching movies, reading books or even in reality. Dreams bring powerful emotions in me.
Dreams are personal, in the sense that, if I explain my dream to others, I might not elicit the same kind of emotions from them even if I have superior story-telling abilities.Dreams are closely bound to our memories. Every aspect of the dream has a corresponding aspect in our memories. Every person has unique memories which cannot be replicated in other person.
At the sametime, our memories are not only about what we see or think, but also about how we interpret the things we see and the situations we face. Where does that interpretation come from? I believe the way we interpret things comes from our previous experiences, which are again - memories; and also in the way in which the brain has been wired.
I would like to stretch that logic furthur, and say that If a person is able to understand my dreams..well..most of my dreams, it means that person is closest to my memories and matrix of my brain.
So, Dear Reader, Do you feel my dreams?
3 questions need to asked regarding dreams.
1. Why do we dream?
2. Whats the mechanism of dreaming?
3. What are the effects of a dream on us after we dreamt the dream.
Obviously, the best way to begin to answer these questions is by analyzing our dreams.
The problem with dreams is that - we tend to forget them. But, at the same time dreams get recorded in our memories, just as whatever we see or think or feel gets recorded. So, it is not the problem of memories of dreams - it is the problem of accessing our dreams. It means that dreams are dreamt in a different state of mind, other than the state of our day-today consciousness. I don't know if can use the word subconscious here, so let me just use the word 'dream-state'.
In my experience, the dream-state is the most creative state of all my states of mind. The emotions I have felt during dreams were hundred times more powerful than any emotions I have felt while imagining or while watching movies, reading books or even in reality. Dreams bring powerful emotions in me.
Dreams are personal, in the sense that, if I explain my dream to others, I might not elicit the same kind of emotions from them even if I have superior story-telling abilities.Dreams are closely bound to our memories. Every aspect of the dream has a corresponding aspect in our memories. Every person has unique memories which cannot be replicated in other person.
At the sametime, our memories are not only about what we see or think, but also about how we interpret the things we see and the situations we face. Where does that interpretation come from? I believe the way we interpret things comes from our previous experiences, which are again - memories; and also in the way in which the brain has been wired.
I would like to stretch that logic furthur, and say that If a person is able to understand my dreams..well..most of my dreams, it means that person is closest to my memories and matrix of my brain.
So, Dear Reader, Do you feel my dreams?
The State
of mind
The dream
which I am going to narrate has less story but more emotions. It has real
characters, and imaginary locations which I don't remember.
My state of mind was pretty clear and happy when I went to sleep yesterday afternoon; after eating my lunch consisting of chicken fry, sambar and excellent curd. After the lunch, I watched Laxman hitting his century, and then, at that point I went to bed (also after eating three delicious guavas).
My state of mind was definitely happy, but there was a thread going on in my mind about a girl. A girl I was in love with. A girl I have never met. A girl whom I am never gonna meet. A love which will go unfulfilled ( in the sense that we are never gonna become a couple), because of the impossibility of the situation we both are in, and most importantly, our compassion and sensitivity are gonna become stumbling blocks for us to see each other.
Some one said that love is a sweet torment. Thats true. I was tormented by this stupid and impossible love. The stupidity arises from the child like fantastic quality of that love. But, I am always in control of it. I knew that if I work on it, and rationally take a decision, I would come out of it very easily. And, I was working on it. Thats why I ask, 'why we dream?'. Is my mind telling something about 'What I am supposed to do?".
(Memories are easy to forget, but the decision to forget them (or repress them) is not easy. Its like losing a part of you. )
The other character in that dream was my ex-GF. We move on after bad relationships, but our memories remain. From time to time, I think about her. What she might be doing etc. etc. You may call it as my weakness, but I can never forget my friends, relationships and any person who became emotionally close to me at one point, even if that person is an X now.
In spite of all these underlying threads of thoughts, I can definitely tell you that my mind was very happy as I hit the bed. I loved the bed. I loved that great pillow. I loved the cool breeze the fan was fanning. I put on my bose headphones, and listened to Dr.Dre for 10 minutes.
Just for the sake of not missing any details, I would like to explain the lyrics of Dr.Dre's song, and why at that particular moment I loved them. As I said, love is a sweet torment. And, since I am a straight guy, and I was obviously in love with a girl, the anti-dote, unconsciously was misogyny. If you meet me at some other time, I would argue with you that gangsta rap is not misogynist, and that it is portraying the reality of the situation. But, here, in the situation I was in, gangsta rap was definitely misogynistic and that was what the Doctor ordered for my torment.
The song is called 'lets get high'.
My state of mind was pretty clear and happy when I went to sleep yesterday afternoon; after eating my lunch consisting of chicken fry, sambar and excellent curd. After the lunch, I watched Laxman hitting his century, and then, at that point I went to bed (also after eating three delicious guavas).
My state of mind was definitely happy, but there was a thread going on in my mind about a girl. A girl I was in love with. A girl I have never met. A girl whom I am never gonna meet. A love which will go unfulfilled ( in the sense that we are never gonna become a couple), because of the impossibility of the situation we both are in, and most importantly, our compassion and sensitivity are gonna become stumbling blocks for us to see each other.
Some one said that love is a sweet torment. Thats true. I was tormented by this stupid and impossible love. The stupidity arises from the child like fantastic quality of that love. But, I am always in control of it. I knew that if I work on it, and rationally take a decision, I would come out of it very easily. And, I was working on it. Thats why I ask, 'why we dream?'. Is my mind telling something about 'What I am supposed to do?".
(Memories are easy to forget, but the decision to forget them (or repress them) is not easy. Its like losing a part of you. )
The other character in that dream was my ex-GF. We move on after bad relationships, but our memories remain. From time to time, I think about her. What she might be doing etc. etc. You may call it as my weakness, but I can never forget my friends, relationships and any person who became emotionally close to me at one point, even if that person is an X now.
In spite of all these underlying threads of thoughts, I can definitely tell you that my mind was very happy as I hit the bed. I loved the bed. I loved that great pillow. I loved the cool breeze the fan was fanning. I put on my bose headphones, and listened to Dr.Dre for 10 minutes.
Just for the sake of not missing any details, I would like to explain the lyrics of Dr.Dre's song, and why at that particular moment I loved them. As I said, love is a sweet torment. And, since I am a straight guy, and I was obviously in love with a girl, the anti-dote, unconsciously was misogyny. If you meet me at some other time, I would argue with you that gangsta rap is not misogynist, and that it is portraying the reality of the situation. But, here, in the situation I was in, gangsta rap was definitely misogynistic and that was what the Doctor ordered for my torment.
The song is called 'lets get high'.
Yeah -- I just took some Ecstasy
Ain't no tellin what the side effects could be
All these fine bitches equal sex to me
plus I got this bad bitch layin next to me
No doubt, sit back on the couch
Pants down, rubber on, set to turn that ass out
Laid the bitch out, then I put it in her mouth
Pulled out, nutted on a towel and passed out
Ain't no tellin what the side effects could be
All these fine bitches equal sex to me
plus I got this bad bitch layin next to me
No doubt, sit back on the couch
Pants down, rubber on, set to turn that ass out
Laid the bitch out, then I put it in her mouth
Pulled out, nutted on a towel and passed out
After that, I turned around, facing down on the pillow, my right leg at 70 degree angle to the left leg, and hit the snooze button.
As usual in any remembrance of a dream, you tend to forget the starting of the dream.But, you do remember that there was definitely a beginning, and you remember forgetting it.
And obviously, Did the dream happened exactly the way i am going to narrate? No. And, at the same time, I can say that it did happen exactly in the same way. Thats the nature of dreams.
The Dream
It was some hotel room, an unknown
city in an unknown country. I was sitting on a bed.
A girl was looking for someone in the closet. She was calling some name, and I heard her saying, " Darling, where r u, where are u hiding?".
As she opened the closet, she saw me and I saw her. She was my ex-gf, and i was obviously her ex-bf. I was shocked, and she was also shocked.
She had a look of 'its fucking unbelievable', and I had a look of 'yeah, it fucking unbelievable'.She, with a sense of hostility, exclaimed, " WHAT!!".
She continued, " What!! what the hell are you doing you doing here?".
I replied, " I would like to ask the same question".
She said, " This is our ...this is my room".
I said, " No, this is my room".
She said, "What are you talking?"
I said, " What are YOU talking?".
Then jump cut to next scene. Me and my GF sitting on one bed, and my ex-gf and her husband sitting on the other bed.It was as if some discussion went on before that scene.
I moved to my GF and whispered in her ear, " Shes my ex-GF".
I saw some colors changing in my GF's face, and then she turned to ex-gf and said, " You know, you are not supposed to enter someone-else room"
Shouting match ensued between them.
Then jump cut to next scene. Me and my ex-gf's husband on one bed, and my gf and ex-gf on the other bed. My GF and ex-GF were arguing about whose room it was.
I said to ex's husband, " you know, my GF had an X too, just like your wife"
He laughed. Nice guy, i thought.
Then, he asked out of blue, " You wanna swap?"
Damn, this guy is too fast, I thought.
Series of discussion went in my head. If I agree for swapping, I am gonna see the same ass I saw before, but he is gonna see a brand new ass. Whats in it for me? Nothing.
I declined his proposition, and then took my GF and went out.
There was some marriage goin on. We decided to 'wedding crash' for the sake of adventure and were walking along the buffet. Then I noticed my GF for the first time. Her face was fuzzy, as if the TV people fuzzied out the F word. She was like 6 foot high, and was strongly built.
I said to my GF, " You said u are five-four but you are like six".
She replied, " Thats because of my sandals"
"I don't think sandals are gonna make that much difference"
"People always used to say that I appear taller when I wear these sandals, and besides, you are not wearing anything"
Then I looked at my feet. I was barefooted.
For some unknown reasons, I noticed that I was getting angry with her as we sat to eat food. I said, " You know something, we are not at all alike.I thougt we were alike, but no, we are not alike".
She asked, " What do you mean by that?"
"For starters, you are ugly".
She had a look of hurt in her. I knew what I was doing was a bad thing and didn't mean it, but I wasn't able to control, and was surprised by my own words.
She replied angrily, " You cruel bastard. You are ugly too", and hit me on my chest. I fell like 10 feet away from her, just like they show in Charlie Chaplin films.
I was somehow not angry at all. It was as if I felt I got what I deserved. It was as if I want her to hit me. When i got up and looked around, she was gone.
The Search
Where did she go? I gotta get back to the room and say sorry to her. What happened to me? She is the most beautiful girl I ever met. Why did I say those words? What triggered such kind of uncharacteristic behavior from me? I want to hug her and ask her forgiveness.
Then, as I entered a building, I noticed that it was not the same building where we took the room. Then I noticed that all the buildings had a similar look, a kind of approximation to Chandigarh, but more like buildings in the movie 'Edward Scissors hand' -- color-full but peculiar.
I started searching for her in each building. Then I noticed that what I was experiencing was a combination of Bicycle thief, Spoorlos, Saragossa manuscript and Eyes wide shut. I noticed that life was imitating art.
I entered a building. There were groups of men and women in the middle of sexual orgy. As I entered, they all stopped what they were doing but still in their positions, looked at me with a sense of apathy - no emotion on their faces. Then I saw a pig faced woman with no nose. She was sitting in doggy style. I saw some leather belts and masks lying around. A fully clothed man, whom I assumed to be the owner of the building, pushed me towards the naked men and women, and ordered, " Get naked". I pushed him and ran out.
I entered another building. It was named something like 'china embassy'. A Chinese guy ran towards me, " you need a room, a room, a nice clean room? You need a room?". Before I could say anything, he pushed me towards a room. That room was very dirty, and there was a tall Chinese man standing naked. He had a huge dick, unerected, and there was another Chinese man, naked, and he had a dick which looked like as if it was half eaten by a bug. I ran out again.
I noticed that my anxiety was increasing at rapid rate, and my walking was getting slower and slower. It was as if I was walking on a moon. I wanted to run, but more I wanted to run, the slower I was walking. It was as if some kind of friction was stopping me.
Baby, where are you? I love you very much. Are you looking for me. Are you scared. Please don't be scared. I am coming. I am coming for you. I will make it up for you.I will do anything for you. Please don't cry. Please.
Then I started shouting her name. It felt weird. It was the first time I said her name. Our names rhymed. I remembered Orhan Pamuk's protagonist in his book " The New life". The guy talks about soul mates, and how their names rhymes etc. It goes like this:
...........................................
I discarded friends who weren't aware that not only did her name mean soulmate but it also signified God. Taking the cue from the fact that our names rhymed, I had our wedding invitations printed in my imagination, adorning them with a smart rhyme like the ones that come out of New Life caramel candies. I succeeded in predicting the number of lighted windows I counted for an entire week at three in the morning, without exceeding the margin of five percent error that I allowed myself. I repeated fuzuli's famous line of poetry, Janan yok ise jan gerekmez, to thirty-nine people, subjecting them to my interpretation, "If the soulmate is absent there is no need for the soul". I called up and asked after her under twenty-eight different guises, each time using a different voice; and I would not go home before I said Janan thirty-nines times, forming her name in my imagination with the letters I extracted from billboards,posters, flashing neon signs, in the show windows of pharmacies, kebab and lottery shops. Still, Janan did not come.
...............................................
All I wanted was to see her..just once..and tell her how much I love her. Anxiety was killing me. Even a small step needed lot of energy. I wanted to run to her.
I entered another building. There was a black guy begging. He begged for money, and I ignored him. Then he threw his plate at me, as if, when I fall he could grab my wallet. I expertly avoided his plate, and ran out of the building.
I entered a new building. This one looked normal outside, but inside it looked like a maze. I went in circles, each time ignoring the fact that I went through the same circle before. My body was there, but my mind and heart was with her. Snapshots of her face flashed in my mind.
This is hell. This is hell. I can never get out of this place. I am never gonna meet her. I am never gonna see her. what is she doing now? Thinking about me? Don't wait for me. Please go somewhere. Eat your dinner. Find another man. I am just a half-man.I cannot protect you. I am irresponsible. I am useless. I am not supposed to love anyone. You need a better man. Look, I am stuck here. I am not even able to find the way back to you. Where are you?? Please shout something. Please. Please say something!!
Then, my anxiety reached the max, and my heart was about to burst, and then I woke up.
"Thank god!! Its all a dream".
1. Why do we dream? To exist (philosophically speaking).
2. Whats the mechanism of dreaming? desires and fears, coming together to determine sequence of events, combining with any other memories. Important thing to understand is to disregard those extemporaneous memories and directly go to the heart of the dream --- interpreting a dream.
3. What are the effects of dreams on us after we dreamt the dream? Once remembered, dreams act just like normal memories. Since the emotions related to a particular memory effect our subsequent decisions, the emotional effect of the dream do effect us by deciding the course of action. We generally tend to disregard it, as we generally tend not to find the emotional source of our actions.
The source of the dream though, I believe, came from a passage in Pamuk's book.
......................
I had heard of others who had read a book only to have their lives disintegrate. I'd read the account of someone who had read a book called Fundamental principles of philosophy; in total agreement with the book, which he read in one night, he joined the Revolutionary Proletarian Advance Guard the very next day, only to be nabbed three days later robbing a bank and end up doing time for the next ten years. I also knew about those who had stayed awake the whole night reading books such as Islam and New Ethos or The Betrayal of Westernization, then immediately abandoned the tavern for the mosque, sat themselves on those ice-cold rugs doused with rosewater, and began preparing patiently for the next life which was not due for another fifty years. I had even met some one who got carried away by books with titles like Love Sets You Free or Know Yourself, and although these people were the sort who were capable of believing in astrology, they too could in all sincerity say, " This book changed my life over-night!"
Actually, the frightening thing on my mind was not even the pathos of these scenarios: I was afraid of isolation. I was afraid of the sorts of things a fool like me might very well end up doing, such as misunderstanding the book, being shallow or, as the case may be, not shallow, being different, drowning in love, being privy to the mysteries of the universe but looking ridiculous all my life explaining the mystery to those who are not in the least interested, going to jail, being considered a crackpot, comprehending at last that the world is even crueler than I'd imagined, being unable to get pretty girls to love me. If the contents of the book were true, if life was indeed like what I read in the book, if such a world was possible, then it was impossible to understand why people needed to go to prayer, why they yakked their lives away at coffeehouses, why they had to sit in front of the TV set in the evening so as not to die of boredom, unwilling to close even their curtains all the way, just in case something halfway interesting in the street might also be watched, like a car speeding by, a horse neighing, or a drunk cutting loose.
Just thematically replace the 'book' with my dream 'GF'.
A girl was looking for someone in the closet. She was calling some name, and I heard her saying, " Darling, where r u, where are u hiding?".
As she opened the closet, she saw me and I saw her. She was my ex-gf, and i was obviously her ex-bf. I was shocked, and she was also shocked.
She had a look of 'its fucking unbelievable', and I had a look of 'yeah, it fucking unbelievable'.She, with a sense of hostility, exclaimed, " WHAT!!".
She continued, " What!! what the hell are you doing you doing here?".
I replied, " I would like to ask the same question".
She said, " This is our ...this is my room".
I said, " No, this is my room".
She said, "What are you talking?"
I said, " What are YOU talking?".
Then jump cut to next scene. Me and my GF sitting on one bed, and my ex-gf and her husband sitting on the other bed.It was as if some discussion went on before that scene.
I moved to my GF and whispered in her ear, " Shes my ex-GF".
I saw some colors changing in my GF's face, and then she turned to ex-gf and said, " You know, you are not supposed to enter someone-else room"
Shouting match ensued between them.
Then jump cut to next scene. Me and my ex-gf's husband on one bed, and my gf and ex-gf on the other bed. My GF and ex-GF were arguing about whose room it was.
I said to ex's husband, " you know, my GF had an X too, just like your wife"
He laughed. Nice guy, i thought.
Then, he asked out of blue, " You wanna swap?"
Damn, this guy is too fast, I thought.
Series of discussion went in my head. If I agree for swapping, I am gonna see the same ass I saw before, but he is gonna see a brand new ass. Whats in it for me? Nothing.
I declined his proposition, and then took my GF and went out.
There was some marriage goin on. We decided to 'wedding crash' for the sake of adventure and were walking along the buffet. Then I noticed my GF for the first time. Her face was fuzzy, as if the TV people fuzzied out the F word. She was like 6 foot high, and was strongly built.
I said to my GF, " You said u are five-four but you are like six".
She replied, " Thats because of my sandals"
"I don't think sandals are gonna make that much difference"
"People always used to say that I appear taller when I wear these sandals, and besides, you are not wearing anything"
Then I looked at my feet. I was barefooted.
For some unknown reasons, I noticed that I was getting angry with her as we sat to eat food. I said, " You know something, we are not at all alike.I thougt we were alike, but no, we are not alike".
She asked, " What do you mean by that?"
"For starters, you are ugly".
She had a look of hurt in her. I knew what I was doing was a bad thing and didn't mean it, but I wasn't able to control, and was surprised by my own words.
She replied angrily, " You cruel bastard. You are ugly too", and hit me on my chest. I fell like 10 feet away from her, just like they show in Charlie Chaplin films.
I was somehow not angry at all. It was as if I felt I got what I deserved. It was as if I want her to hit me. When i got up and looked around, she was gone.
The Search
Where did she go? I gotta get back to the room and say sorry to her. What happened to me? She is the most beautiful girl I ever met. Why did I say those words? What triggered such kind of uncharacteristic behavior from me? I want to hug her and ask her forgiveness.
Then, as I entered a building, I noticed that it was not the same building where we took the room. Then I noticed that all the buildings had a similar look, a kind of approximation to Chandigarh, but more like buildings in the movie 'Edward Scissors hand' -- color-full but peculiar.
I started searching for her in each building. Then I noticed that what I was experiencing was a combination of Bicycle thief, Spoorlos, Saragossa manuscript and Eyes wide shut. I noticed that life was imitating art.
I entered a building. There were groups of men and women in the middle of sexual orgy. As I entered, they all stopped what they were doing but still in their positions, looked at me with a sense of apathy - no emotion on their faces. Then I saw a pig faced woman with no nose. She was sitting in doggy style. I saw some leather belts and masks lying around. A fully clothed man, whom I assumed to be the owner of the building, pushed me towards the naked men and women, and ordered, " Get naked". I pushed him and ran out.
I entered another building. It was named something like 'china embassy'. A Chinese guy ran towards me, " you need a room, a room, a nice clean room? You need a room?". Before I could say anything, he pushed me towards a room. That room was very dirty, and there was a tall Chinese man standing naked. He had a huge dick, unerected, and there was another Chinese man, naked, and he had a dick which looked like as if it was half eaten by a bug. I ran out again.
I noticed that my anxiety was increasing at rapid rate, and my walking was getting slower and slower. It was as if I was walking on a moon. I wanted to run, but more I wanted to run, the slower I was walking. It was as if some kind of friction was stopping me.
Baby, where are you? I love you very much. Are you looking for me. Are you scared. Please don't be scared. I am coming. I am coming for you. I will make it up for you.I will do anything for you. Please don't cry. Please.
Then I started shouting her name. It felt weird. It was the first time I said her name. Our names rhymed. I remembered Orhan Pamuk's protagonist in his book " The New life". The guy talks about soul mates, and how their names rhymes etc. It goes like this:
...........................................
I discarded friends who weren't aware that not only did her name mean soulmate but it also signified God. Taking the cue from the fact that our names rhymed, I had our wedding invitations printed in my imagination, adorning them with a smart rhyme like the ones that come out of New Life caramel candies. I succeeded in predicting the number of lighted windows I counted for an entire week at three in the morning, without exceeding the margin of five percent error that I allowed myself. I repeated fuzuli's famous line of poetry, Janan yok ise jan gerekmez, to thirty-nine people, subjecting them to my interpretation, "If the soulmate is absent there is no need for the soul". I called up and asked after her under twenty-eight different guises, each time using a different voice; and I would not go home before I said Janan thirty-nines times, forming her name in my imagination with the letters I extracted from billboards,posters, flashing neon signs, in the show windows of pharmacies, kebab and lottery shops. Still, Janan did not come.
...............................................
All I wanted was to see her..just once..and tell her how much I love her. Anxiety was killing me. Even a small step needed lot of energy. I wanted to run to her.
I entered another building. There was a black guy begging. He begged for money, and I ignored him. Then he threw his plate at me, as if, when I fall he could grab my wallet. I expertly avoided his plate, and ran out of the building.
I entered a new building. This one looked normal outside, but inside it looked like a maze. I went in circles, each time ignoring the fact that I went through the same circle before. My body was there, but my mind and heart was with her. Snapshots of her face flashed in my mind.
This is hell. This is hell. I can never get out of this place. I am never gonna meet her. I am never gonna see her. what is she doing now? Thinking about me? Don't wait for me. Please go somewhere. Eat your dinner. Find another man. I am just a half-man.I cannot protect you. I am irresponsible. I am useless. I am not supposed to love anyone. You need a better man. Look, I am stuck here. I am not even able to find the way back to you. Where are you?? Please shout something. Please. Please say something!!
Then, my anxiety reached the max, and my heart was about to burst, and then I woke up.
"Thank god!! Its all a dream".
1. Why do we dream? To exist (philosophically speaking).
2. Whats the mechanism of dreaming? desires and fears, coming together to determine sequence of events, combining with any other memories. Important thing to understand is to disregard those extemporaneous memories and directly go to the heart of the dream --- interpreting a dream.
3. What are the effects of dreams on us after we dreamt the dream? Once remembered, dreams act just like normal memories. Since the emotions related to a particular memory effect our subsequent decisions, the emotional effect of the dream do effect us by deciding the course of action. We generally tend to disregard it, as we generally tend not to find the emotional source of our actions.
The source of the dream though, I believe, came from a passage in Pamuk's book.
......................
I had heard of others who had read a book only to have their lives disintegrate. I'd read the account of someone who had read a book called Fundamental principles of philosophy; in total agreement with the book, which he read in one night, he joined the Revolutionary Proletarian Advance Guard the very next day, only to be nabbed three days later robbing a bank and end up doing time for the next ten years. I also knew about those who had stayed awake the whole night reading books such as Islam and New Ethos or The Betrayal of Westernization, then immediately abandoned the tavern for the mosque, sat themselves on those ice-cold rugs doused with rosewater, and began preparing patiently for the next life which was not due for another fifty years. I had even met some one who got carried away by books with titles like Love Sets You Free or Know Yourself, and although these people were the sort who were capable of believing in astrology, they too could in all sincerity say, " This book changed my life over-night!"
Actually, the frightening thing on my mind was not even the pathos of these scenarios: I was afraid of isolation. I was afraid of the sorts of things a fool like me might very well end up doing, such as misunderstanding the book, being shallow or, as the case may be, not shallow, being different, drowning in love, being privy to the mysteries of the universe but looking ridiculous all my life explaining the mystery to those who are not in the least interested, going to jail, being considered a crackpot, comprehending at last that the world is even crueler than I'd imagined, being unable to get pretty girls to love me. If the contents of the book were true, if life was indeed like what I read in the book, if such a world was possible, then it was impossible to understand why people needed to go to prayer, why they yakked their lives away at coffeehouses, why they had to sit in front of the TV set in the evening so as not to die of boredom, unwilling to close even their curtains all the way, just in case something halfway interesting in the street might also be watched, like a car speeding by, a horse neighing, or a drunk cutting loose.
Just thematically replace the 'book' with my dream 'GF'.
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