I woke up with a cold sweat - my hand went to the right side of my head. Surprisingly, there was no blood there. Then I remembered who I was. I jolted up in my bed. That too had been a dream! I looked around. My wife lay by my side, snoring softly.
I touched my face. It was covered with sweat. I tried to calm down. I got out of the bed and drank some water. I then looked at my children’s peaceful faces. But my heart kept on beating wildly.
I was walking back to my bed when a paralyzing thought arose within me: “Am I still dreaming?” This thought shocked me so much that I sat down right there on the ground. I touched my arms and legs. They felt real enough; but so had the police officer’s baton and the prince’s face. Dizzily, I walked back to my bed and tried to sleep. But I was too frightened to sleep.
In the morning, my wife and children were alarmed by my state. I no longer cared to say anything to them. Just the thought, “Am I still dreaming?” kept eating away at my heart. I didn’t go to the farm that day. What was the use? It was not real, why did I need to do anything when I knew it would soon end.
That day, I spent many hours in front of the mirror looking closely at my face. I tried to see if it had any similarities with queens and the thief’s face. But none existed. Everyone and everything told me I was not dreaming. But my eyes told a different story. I looked deeply into them and saw only sleep in them.
My wife and children were greatly troubled by my low spirits and tried to cheer me up by talking about the expansion of the farm which I had been passionately pursuing, but I couldn’t help but laugh at them. I looked closely into their eyes and even in them, I saw nothing but sleep invasion.
That day went slowly. I sat on the bed waiting for the dream to end. I no longer knew who I was.
Was I the thief? Was I the queen? Was I the farmer?
...next part
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