This morning at office, sitting with colleagues over breakfast we were discussing summers. And a couple of us from North India started reminiscing how the summers are really harsh in northern India especially in the states of UP and Rajasthan. I started telling about how it gets difficult for people in independent houses with roof exposed to scorning sun the whole day and in the evening when sun gets milder we used to sprinkle water on the roof, to make it bearable for the night. When one of my colleague said how it was better when one had a room underground.
Just as this conversation was going on, I get a flash; of a dream probably which I must have seen many times. At first it didn't even feel like it was a dream. The picture I was getting was of house and felt like it was one I lived in for years. I remember every detail of it. This house too had a underground room - something which triggered this memory. This underground room's entrance though was an illusion. Hard for one to know where it's entrance would be. I remember the rooms the doors, the furniture which occupy these rooms. It all looks so familiar, I can see it all in my head.
Yet, never have I in my life lived in a house like that. Then how do I know of this house.
Did I built it all up in my dreams? Why a talk of underground room today brought back the memory of it? For a second before that I was unknown to it and the next second I feel as if I have known of this all along? Are dreams that powerful? What all knowledge exist in the deep of our brains?
At times I feel; we all know there is to know of. There is never a discovery made in the world. But rather everything was/is/will be rediscovered what was lost in the unreachable corners of our mind.
Just as this conversation was going on, I get a flash; of a dream probably which I must have seen many times. At first it didn't even feel like it was a dream. The picture I was getting was of house and felt like it was one I lived in for years. I remember every detail of it. This house too had a underground room - something which triggered this memory. This underground room's entrance though was an illusion. Hard for one to know where it's entrance would be. I remember the rooms the doors, the furniture which occupy these rooms. It all looks so familiar, I can see it all in my head.
Yet, never have I in my life lived in a house like that. Then how do I know of this house.
Did I built it all up in my dreams? Why a talk of underground room today brought back the memory of it? For a second before that I was unknown to it and the next second I feel as if I have known of this all along? Are dreams that powerful? What all knowledge exist in the deep of our brains?
At times I feel; we all know there is to know of. There is never a discovery made in the world. But rather everything was/is/will be rediscovered what was lost in the unreachable corners of our mind.
Comments