Am I still dreaming?

After a very long time my heart has again started pumping fresh and tender dreams of beautiful life. Dreams - bright and colorful – that are dazzling my eyes to differentiate between the reality and fiction. Dreams - mad and frantic – that are tangling the sane thoughts to the extent of defying the logic. Dreams – young and vulnerable – that are ridiculing my intellect and mocking my reasoning. Dreams – sacred and holy – that are comforting my soul and soothing my senses.

From morning till evening, the sweet and the short time that I spent that day with the angel has still been tickling and thrilling my body. True, angels do come at night but, perhaps, I was blessed by the Ultimate to be able to found her in the beautiful summer morning. I was curious and excited like a nursery kid desperate to see the angel for the first time. I had heard a lot about them but I always thought that they did not exist until I met her. The moment my eyes met hers my body got stoned. For a second my heart stopped pumping blood, brain became numb, thoughts got frozen, and eye balls rolled down. I was completely hypnotized and transfixed by her mesmerizing and magnetic beauty. I was seeing a beautiful full moon on earth on a scorching summer day with the fierce and fiery sun in the sky. The comforting cool silver light of the full moon had overwhelmed the irritating hot rays of the sun and caused it to shy away. Confused and apprehensive about the uncertainty of the next moment and strangeness of the angel I took my first step towards her.

From close distance I could notice her moon white lustrous sheen of silver skin. And as she spoke, the words dropped off her mouth as musical notes and danced together to form a magical song that made my heart dance. As the angel smiled I could see the swirls and whirlpools on her cheeks that were sucking my heart and body without letting me loose or escape. I shook myself, came out from my stoned state to find my date. I could see the real world now, real people, and cars passing by and honking. I know I was not dreaming, but to my surprise the angel was still there. Am I dating an angel? I pinched my skin so hard that the eyes become watery but the angel was still there. I indeed was with an angel. Dream or reality? – Still figuring it out.

We sat together and the angel painted the picture of paradise in front of me. She started with canvass. She made a fine canvass by weaving the threads of hopes. She collected her hopes with mine in a bowl made of our hearts. If the thread of my hope was thin she would add her hope to make it perfect. She weaved a perfect canvass. The canvass was hanging in air between her and me, right in front of our faces, and was tied with our tacit promises that were still lingering in the air. She then plucked her and mine emotions and created a brush out of them. She asked for my dreams and used color of my dreams to color the picture. Red, green, blue, yellow, etc. all colors were there. I had given her all my dreams with none left to me. To add interest she added dabs of her exuberance and bubbliness here and there. And I kept seeing the angel working like a perfect magician without breathing. I was afraid that even the slightest puff of my breath could disturb the air, and the tacit promises might fall down, ultimately leading to the fall of paradise. I kept seeing and dreaming about the paradise with her sitting in the restaurant. The music was loud but with her magic wand she froze everybody and controlled it. I was not bothered about anything around as my eyes were immersed and indulged in the beauty of paradise.

And she spoke finally to tell me, that the paradise is not for human beings but for angels. I should not desire and long for it. She pulled away the tacit promises and the paradise fell down and disintegrated. She was in hurry to go to the real paradise else the door would close. She returned my colorful dreams and my stranded emotions that belonged to me. But, in hurry she took away the canvas to make me realize later that my threads of hopes were gone with hers. The angel still has my threads of hope with her.

I dream, I feel them, but without hopes. Do dreams have significance without hopes? Do they really exist without it? Dear Angel, when we meet again or whenever you come to earth again from paradise, please, return my hopes.

The angel disappeared and I was back again in the real world. The world that works on fake principles those are twisted and tweaked every other second. Shocked and lost, I pinched myself again to found me on bed. Was it a dream?

I checked my clothes and found a lean thread of hope on my collar. I easily recognized that it belonged to her. A gush of gentle evening breeze swayed the thread in front of my eyes and as it dangled past my eyes I read her hope, she indeed wanted me to join paradise with her but unlike earth rules in paradise are inflexible and stringent. Human beings are not allowed. And all drenched in profuse perspiration, I pinched myself again. Am I still dreaming?