Bliss From The Past

I was in bed, half awake. My eyes were shut. I was acutely aware of the surroundings. The bed was next to a wall with a window. The door, painted in green, was to my right. Sounds from the piano resonated down the hallway from the living room.

My mother was outside somewhere, either occupying herself with housework or in the garden, I was not sure which. The coolness of the morning filled me with a sense of contentment. In the comfort of my pillows and ruffled blanket, I was reluctant to get up.

Reality seeped in as realisation slowly stirred me from the slumber. Indeed, there was a window on my left but the door to my right was grey and next to it was another door in the same colour. Sounds from the piano came from the neighbouring house and not from the living room.

My Twitter update a while later reflected my feelings when I became fully cognizant of where I really was.

Thought I was in my childhood home with mother pottering outside. Woke up to discover I’m far away, all grown up and mother long gone.

For the past week or so, I have woken up remembering dreams like this. They are usually bits and pieces of familiar scenes; from my childhood, from my teenage years, from my past. The most vivid was also this, recurring every now and then, of the one place I felt most secure and comfortable in, my bedroom in the Jalan Terengganu house in Penang.

I guess, deep inside, one part of me wished I was still that seventeen year old kid, bumming around without a care in the world. Life was good back then. How was I to foresee my life would turn out the way it is now. Ignorance is bliss, they say. I cannot agree more, not that I have any complaint about my life now, on a personal level. Life is still good but dreams like that give me a sense of joy knowing that I have experienced such bliss before.

Sleeping With My Facebook Buddies

The moment I opened my eyes, there sleeping beside me was this bald, dark skinned and good looking man who, in my mind, was supposed to be one of my Facebook buddies. Beside him were two other good looking female Facebook buddies, all lying side by side on the same mattress with me. I do not know what we were doing there. We were all fully clothed, mind you. And then I woke up. Noon naps will never be the same again.

Almost Real

The bed was pushed right up to the walls at the far corner of the room. There were two windows. One had louvers that opened out to a spacious air well where Mum would hang clothes that she had washed. The other opened out to the garden and had cast iron grilles and green window panes.

My eyes were still closed. The familiar sounds of birds chirping indicated that it was already mid-morning. In my mind’s eye, the view beyond the iron grilles was as familiar as the lines on my palms. Just outside the window, a fertile bush of betel thrived. Its vines gripped and snaked around the stakes that looked like rotting wood but were sturdy nonetheless. A coconut tree stood behind, spreading out its fronds in all directions and provided ample shade for everything beneath it.

I strained my ears to catch hints of activity in the garden. Mum would usually be pottering away with her adeniums, orchids and bougainvillas. She was especially proud of her green fingers and skills in cultivating beautiful looking adeniums. Many Chinese households have a pot or two of this plant for its auspicious name which meant prosperity in any of the Chinese dialects.

There were no familiar sounds other than the chirpings. I wondered where Mum was. Perhaps she had gone for her breakfast. I was happy nonetheless, knowing that I was in familiar surroundings. A sense of security and contentment enveloped me. Then reality struck. I realised was reliving a time fifteen years ago. Mum was no longer around and I was 400km from home. And I woke up from that dream feeling empty and lonely.