The Adventure of the Dreamworld

Episode 2 My First experience in Dreamworld

...Suddenly, one of the officer's batons hit my buttocks... I gained my senses and got up from sleep with a bit of a scared face.

Oh Gosh! Was I dreaming it all? Ah wait, But why do I feel pain in my back like if I was really beaten by the police's batons?

I ignore that. Breathing heavily... I Checked the time on my smartphone.

It's night 2:18 am now. I was sweating in timidity. Sat for a while calmly. Relax Maddy, calm down, I said to myself.

Breathe in - breathe out... Breathe in- breathe out... And now I feel relaxed.

Now coming back into my senses... Thank God I survived being beaten by the Police, but I really can feel the pain of being beaten by the Police on my buttocks. My head felt heavy.

Suddenly some visions flashed into my mind. Aww, what was that? Some weird unfamiliar memories in my head. Ohh that's the residuals of my dream.

Recalling all the sequences of events from start to end, I decided to immediately pen down the whole story from the beginning, whatever memories left in my mind.

Recalling what had happened in my dream, from the beginning within my mind...

…It was a beautiful, quite evening. A few stars appeared twinkling in the sky and the moon with its half face was about to grin brightly. When the clock was half past seven.

A few countable people were wandering around the nearby areas when we friends visited the roadside vendors stall.

The stall resides beyond the local railway station in our city, Pakur. Pakur is a small district of Jharkhand state, in India…

We’re here for having Chhola Bhatura as evening snacks, an Indian dish of chickpeas and Indian bread.

There was a lady, owner of the stall, who was working by herself. She was serving food to her customers alone and also opt to washing the plates by herself.

…The stall, which usually remains full of crowds, on the other days and we were bound to wait for others, to let them finish their meals first.

Since it was a less crowd in the market today, so soon we succeeded in getting the places on the bench to keep our ass perfectly.

Placing our order… Rohit said… Four plates of Chhola Bhatura please.

The lady owner was mumbling something with an expression of anger in her face.

I was enforced by my strong curiosity and asked, what happened didi (elder sister), why are you so tensed?

She put a strange glance at me, and enquired in a sarcastic manner, “Who are you? Are you a new comer here? I haven’t seen you earlier any day here?”

“No didi, I’m a permanent resident here but I do, very less roam nearby this area, so you don’t know me.” I explained.

She nodded, “that’s why you called me didi.”…

After a three seconds pause… My mouth remained open. What???

What should I call you then? I asked her in annoyance.

She replied, “No one calls me sister, ask your friends why”.

… With a mysterious smile she stretched her arms, showing her beautifully shaped breast out of her small ripped blouse taking a sexy long yawn.

…As I turned to my friends, they were all smiling.

They said they’ll explain it to me personally, later.

After eating Chhola Bhatura, we rushed back to play badminton at the Rani Jyotirmayi Stadium, which was an example of a progressive initiative construction by district athletics federation. It’s an amazing experience to play badminton at night.

I enquired my friends what the lady was saying there. They all laughed out bursting. “Bro leave it, you will not get it. You are immature to understand such things”. Said Rohit.

I got upset. Oh that’s rubbish bro, I’m pursuing a Masters degree; I’m not a child anymore. I’m mature enough to understand everything.

They all laughed again. This made me mad this time. They always do that, makes fun of me. I angrily said, if you are gonna make fun out of me, I’m going home.

Prince said, bro “she is a part time vender and a full time prostitute.” Her name is Chameli, and everyone calls her by her name, no one calls her sister because of her dirty business.

Really?... I frowned.

Yeah! Her husband is an alcoholic and gambler. You know, what she was mumbling about?... Prince said.

What? I asked.

Her husband always beats her and asks money for gambling and alcohol and for fulfilling her husbands demands she does nothing but p**********n for easy and handful of earning after 10 pm everyday.

Today again her husband might have beaten her brutally for money that’s why she was mumbling about. Prince pronounced disdainfully.

“Oh, so sad! Harsh reality of poor, illiterate, backward Indian society.” I worried and my friends, laughed at me again.

“Bro, don’t act childish… she is disgusting, haven’t you seen her makeup.” Aged 32 or above. She’s having two young sons of our age and she’s doing such job.

“Don’t her sons oppose their mother’s job.” Her sons are also fuckers like their father. One of them is a truck driver and the other is an auto owner.

Both uses abusive words to threaten their own mother…Chameli, and also takes all her money for their self enjoyment.

I was just stunned listening his words. I thought it all happens only in movies or in a big cities but in a small districts like Pakur is getting such an w***e environment like that. Omg! This is so sad, poor Chameli. A flow of deep thoughts accompanied my mind…

“Oye Maddy shall we start now?” Prince called me aloud. He was ready with his racquet in the badminton court, to play.

So we all cheered up the moment and started our game by teaming into two partners in each teams.

Rohit and Rajesh were our opponent and Prince accompanied me at a side.

Game begins…

…’Love-love’… Announced Rohit and he smashed the shuttlecock towards us.

“Take it easy… Flick it Prince”, I instructed…

A flick service is a genius shot in a badminton game, which is executed with an accelerated movement of the wrist just before the shuttle is hit. The shuttle will leave the racket at a higher speed, than the service movement would suggest and therefore could surprise the receiver.

Oh yeah, he flicked it perfectly… and definitely Rajesh missed the shot and grinned in shame.

It was my turn of smashing. “One love… and the game caught its rhythm with the tk…tk…tk…tk…hitting sound of shuttle and cork”.

…And a sudden loud voice came towards the main gate of the stadium- “hey you! You rascals, how dare you to play here during this lockdown”?

“Don’t you know it’s so dangerous to play out here… You rascals will spread corona virus to the community spreading level in our green zone. Are we fool here doing our duty this late night?” Roar that Police officer.

A recall in my mind…

(Oh yeah it’s true. I remember it’s completely lockdown in our country…India, to be safe from Novel Covid-19, aka Corona virus…

The pandemic, deadly corona virus, a contagious disease spreaded out worldwide from Wuhan city of China.

It’s so dangerous that it’s infection leads to death within a several days after being infected. There is no medicinal cure for this world epidemic.

A thousands and millions of people are dying everyday throughout the world.

They are all scared. Locked inside their houses to prevent themselves from getting infected through corona positives.

Doctors and Police are on their duty to treat and save people and keep people safe inside their homes. World Economic has collapsed.

While I was busy with my own thoughts about corona virus, a sudden hit by police's batons, disrupt my flow of thoughts.

...It took me one and half hours for reconstruction of the story in my mind and writing it into my diary. As well as I decided to develop and complete the story into a Novel.