Hello dreamers,
I want you to watch this video till the end. Some of you might have already seen it on your TLs while others could have watched something similar. Whatever be the case, watch it before you proceed.
To unsuspecting eyes, it’s a man cycling in the sky. How cool is that. And ooh! Look at that cap – he’s clearly equipped for a ride under the sun. But yeah, I know, we know, it’s just a life-sized kite.
So why am I talking kites today? Scroll down to read my latest dream and find out.
Naren and I are on a holiday. To a hill station, perhaps. The sun is up, the sky is clear, and I can hear the buzz of the morning market down the road. This is enough to wake up the light-sleeper that I am while Naren hasn’t flinched a bit from his slumber. Lucky him! As I throw the blanket off me, I wonder where we are. The blanket is too white and plush for the cheap travel hostels we usually check into. Did we book a resort this time? I drop the stray thoughts and move to the window.
I look up, down, left, right and start drumming the window. I am bored already. But what else can I do? Damn! Naren is still sleeping. I look up at the sky again. I love watching clouds build up, glide away and take shapes. I really believe they are hiding a kingdom or many behind them.
And just then, from nowhere, I see a tiny speck of something heading towards me, cutting through one cloud after another. Heck no! It’s cycling towards me. It’s growing closer, bigger and clearer and I can’t believe what I am witnessing. It’s a man on a cycle. He’s cycling in the sky. It’s real human, not a kite, I repeat.
“Hey! He needs to stop pedalling or he will crash into my window,” I mutter. But he’s on another trip. He hurtles straight towards me, takes a sharp right turn and waves at me with his right hand. I am not sure if I am more amused or confused with this stunt but I am certainly concerned: “What if he falls from the sky? Why did he take his hand off the handle?”
And as if to show off, he applies brakes. He is right now hanging in the air on a cycle and taking in the view of building tops, water tankers and folks collecting dry laundry from the clothesline. I just noticed that he’s got his cycle helmet on. Thank goodness! But before I can slide the windowpane open to talk to him, he starts cycling again, perhaps because the sun is burning hot and it’s getting sweaty for him. He disappears in the clouds in no time.
I rush to wake up Naren but he’s so deep in sleep that I drop the idea. I decide to slip under the blanket as well, to while away my time.
Two hours have passed. It’s 8am now. We are awake but still lounging under the blanket. So I start telling Naren what I saw. But he isn’t looking intrigued, not sure why. And then by my sweet luck, I see the evidence cycling towards me. Literally! I can see the man cycling in the sky again from our room’s window. Even Naren can. The man is hovering over the hill station in rounds, unmindful of his loyal audience that I am. He’s too far to make a small talk. Off he vrooms from our sight. Damn!
“Did you know about these aerial cycles? When did this technology come out? I haven’t read anything such in the news. It would be so cool if I can track this guy down for a story,” I quiz Naren, who is still strangely disinterested in this man or his cycle.
Anyway, let’s get ourselves some food. I am hungry.
We are driving down the narrow road that’s delightfully flanked by eateries. It’s time to find a parking. There’s a spot on the right, so we turn in there. As Naren brings the car to a halt, I wonder what is our car doing here? Did we drive all the way down? My thought bubble is bursted by Naren’s call for help. He wants me to step out and see if the ‘butt’ of his car is getting too close to the wall.
I step out and see a man is trying to park his cycle next to us. Even he’s struggling for space but he’s done it finally. He removes his helmet, tosses his sweaty hair up and smiles at me. I stop dead in my tracks. “Oh god! He is the man on that cycle,” I gasp for breath. I want to yell in excitement, you know, because my big, exclusive story – my scoop – has walked right into me. But I decide otherwise. “What if this guy has been written about already? I’d look like a fool,” I counsel myself.
So putting up a cool, casual and ‘What’s the big deal?’ front, I ask him, “Are you the same man who was cycling in the sky today?”
“Yes. Did you see that?” he confirms my discovery.
“So for how long have you been doing this? I mean, riding in the sky? And did you develop the cycle yourself?” the journalist in me takes over.
“It’s been a few weeks. I mostly ride above Ulsoor but sometimes I veer away by a few kilometeres to come this side. I have developed this cycle technology with a friend. He’s an Indian but currently in Europe,” the young man, in his early 30s, opens the fact-sheet.
“Ulsoor? Ulsoor is in Bangalore. Does that mean I am in Bangalore and not at a hill station at the moment? Is that why we are driving around in our car?” I question my dream, in the dream.
“Ulsoor is right next to where I work, so how did I not discover this story earlier?” I am upset with myself but I have no time to dwell up on trivial things. I need to act fact or some other reporter from Bangalore might catch this story first. I can’t let that happen.
“Hey! You didn’t help me,” Naren startled me by putting his arms around me. Yup, I totally forgot about the parking. “Naren, he’s the man we saw cycling in the sky a few hours ago. He was piloting his project this side,” I fill him in with whatever details I’ve gathered as the sky cyclist looks on, rather uncomfortable with the limelight coming his way.
“Sorry, I forgot to ask your name,” I turn to the cyclist.
“It’s Ramesh,” he responds.
We ask Ramesh to join us for lunch and we find ourselves a wooden table to sit, overlooking a valley. “Has your cycle story been covered in any newspaper so far?” I ask bluntly because it’s now or never. “No, not yet,” he informs me. I can’t describe you the joy and relief I felt hearing those words.
“My name is Barkha Kumari. I am a journalist with Bangalore Mirror. I would like to cover your story,” I make a pitch. (PS: I saw the dream when I was still employed, which, you know, was many moons ago :p)
“No, no. I am not interested,” he shoots down the idea.
“What?!” I recoil in shock.
“Ermm… May I ask why? Is it because your technology is still in the testing stage and you want time to full-proof it? Either way, I can tell you it’ll be a fun read. I plan to write a mood piece, more of a first-person account of watching you cycle through the clouds. We’ll try to do a video shoot as well. I think it will go viral,” I try to hard-sell the pitch.
“No, it’s not that,” is all he says.
“Okay. If you aren’t ready for this yet, can you please share your contact number so we can stay in touch and follow up on the story later? Believe me, it will definitely be a Page 1 story. I can already imagine my boss coming up with the cleverest headlines,” I chuckle while he is looking mad at me.
“Fine. If not for a story, can we stay in touch so I can come to your workshop and understand your technology better? I love geeky stuff and my office is very close to Ulsoor,” I change my strategy.
“No,” he goes again. This time, he’s getting up from the table – to leave.
I corner Naren and tell him, “What’s wrong with his guy? Why is he behaving this way? Am I coming across as desperate? Can you please talk to him instead and explain that I see value in this story and his technology and would like to stay in touch? If not the contact number, email ID would also do.”
I get up from the table and go and stand a few feet away. Ramesh has got me angry. As a journalist, I love telling a good story but if the source/subject is going to act pricey for no good reason, I won’t stoop low. That’s clear to me.
I can hear that Naren’s negotiation isn’t going down well. And just like that, a few minutes later, Ramesh gets up on a whim and heads to the parking spot to get his cycle. He leaves, but this time he’s strangely cycling on the road and not in the sky.
I am watching all this coolly, from the corner of my right eye as if I don’t care. Of course, I care but I can’t let this show. I have self-respect.
Naren and I get back to the table to order some lunch finally. I pull out my phone to fix my mood – to scroll news, watch cat videos, answer messages, and hmm… also to stalk this one Ramesh from the thousand others on social media. After responding to a message on WhatsApp, I start scrolling down the contacts aimlessly because I am in no mood to talk to Naren or anybody. I have hit the bottom of my WhatsApp contact list, so I start scrolling up. And guess what I spot?
I see a photo of that Ramesh guy in one of the profile circles. “What?! I have his contact number already. How?” my heart is racing with both excitement and revenge. I show the photo to Naren with a smirk on my face. We share a good laugh and start digging into our lunch.
What do I do with this number?
Do I call him up?
Do I leave a message?
Or, do I drop the story altogether?
Please don’t ask me because I have woken up from my dream. But what I can surely tell you is that, where there’s a story, there’s a journalist. We are as good as detectives 🙂
Anyway, that’s that. If you’ve also seen geeky dreams, please share in the feedback section below.
Diaries of a dreamworm 