The sky was surprisingly clear for nighttime in Mumbai. No haze, no smog. I could actually see some stars blinking. Or was it the Space station 😁? I was patiently waiting for the ‘ragda-pattice‘ that I had ordered. Simultaneously contemplating the morality of ordering a ‘dabeli‘ from the street vendor two stalls away. With such delicious decisions on my mind, I noticed a group of men approaching the pav-bhaji stall. My mind being already in the comfort zone of culinary delight, it took me some time to register that the new group had started having an argument with another group already at the stall. Heads were turning, and people were murmuring.
The Mumbai night-time street food culture is dynamic, vibrant and fairly safe. People from all walks of life come out to relax, unwind and of course – to eat. Loud voices or heated words immediately strike an off note.
Soon, the argument at the next stall turned into a scuffle, and before we could decide how to react, it became a full-blown fight, with the two sides hurling bottles at each other. Other people started moving away from them, like the sea parting to give way to a divine presence. Only here it was to give space to the hooligans. The fight took center stage, and there was a crowd watching the drama unfold. I realized that my delightful dinner was in danger. The decision of whether to abandon the food and retreat to safety was taken out of my hands and mind by the shattering sound of a GUNSHOT!!
The crowd, including me, ran from there, trying to put maximum distance between the fight and us. As my home was just around the corner, I ran non-stop, reached my building, and quietly entered my home using the keys. Finally, I made it home. Safe.
Except apparently my melodramatic brain hadn’t finished with me. As I tried to sleep, there was a knock on the door. Fear returned in full force. I went to the door to check. My parents and sister also came there from their rooms. All of us were naked from the waist up. My husband and kids were peacefully sleeping in another room, fully clothed. My subconscious had apparently decided that when danger strikes, my family of origin gets the emergency role while my husband and children get to sleep through the apocalypse.
I urged my sister not to open the door while trying to get dressed as quickly as possible. But she got dressed and opened the door. My legs gave out due to numb fear, and I woke up with a start.
What a dream!! There was so much going on in my dream that it could have easily passed off as a thriller movie!
I am not sure what my subconscious mind was trying to tell me. But it sure was a hell of a dream. The gist here seemed to be danger + vulnerability + a strong need for safety and control. Maybe, when we are going through our day, the subconscious mind is catching and filing things away to be processed later. people who function quite well during the day process their emotional material at night.
My waking mind says: “Okay. Deal with what’s in front of me.”
My sleeping brain says: “Great. Now let’s make a bizarre movie about it.”
There’s also something called dream incorporation: the sleeping brain takes fragments of real sensations, memories, worries, conversations, sounds, bodily sensations and emotions and weaves them into a narrative.
Our dreams may be a combination of: recent emotional material + family concerns + our brain’s threat-detection system + physical sensations during sleep.
And the result in my case is: “Congratulations, tonight’s feature film is Gunfire, Nudity & The Mysterious Door knock.” 😄
The bigger question is why does my brain keep making these movies? First my father got remarried.(See post here) Now I’m running from gunshots and answering the door naked. Clearly, my subconscious has no interest in subtlety.
I’m beginning to suspect there may be a theme-based movie series here.
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