a topless blue man came to me in my dreams one night when i was a child. i decided to relate my dream to my parents (then much less dysfunctional) on the way to my grandmother's house. for some reason, they overreacted. i couldn't fathom why they would make such a big fuss for didn't every child have a whimsical dream once in a while?
look at them steel thighs eh?now, i shan't deny that i was snot nosed sttention seeking little brat blessed with highly effective imagination. that was also why i had to swear to my parents that i did have the dream. for reasons that my tiny child brain could not understand, my parents were fascinated. they quizzed and questioned me. who cares if i didn't know why i got the attention? as the tormented middle child i reveled in the attention, in whatever way i got it.
my mum turned in her passenger seat of the car to face me, "nan, what did you see?". i was a little bemused that she had used the word "see" instead of "dream". but again, attention was attention.
"the blue guy..." i started.
"don't be rude. don't call him the blue guy." my mum snapped at me with a scowl. boy, was she taking this dream thing seriously.
"HE flew me around the streets of India with his monkey. he showed me where the poor people lived and asked me to help them. and then we went to his cave. he said he had been living there for very long. he said he'll follow me around for as long as i needed him and that he would help me. his monkey was cute" i replied, somewhat animatedly.
my mum turned in her passenger seat of the car to face me, "nan, what did you see?". i was a little bemused that she had used the word "see" instead of "dream". but again, attention was attention.
"the blue guy..." i started.
"don't be rude. don't call him the blue guy." my mum snapped at me with a scowl. boy, was she taking this dream thing seriously.
"HE flew me around the streets of India with his monkey. he showed me where the poor people lived and asked me to help them. and then we went to his cave. he said he had been living there for very long. he said he'll follow me around for as long as i needed him and that he would help me. his monkey was cute" i replied, somewhat animatedly.
im a monkey that flies. beat that jesus."haaah he said that ah? i don't like people who tell lies..." she said in tamil. my mum looked at me suspiciously, scanning my eyes.
"nooooo... why would i lie about a dream?" i said somewhat annoyed that she didn't believe me. it was my dream after all.
my mum turned back and i caught her looking sideways at my dad meaningfully. it made me quite uncomfortable. when we got to my grandmother's house, i finally realised why. it was then when i knew exactly when my mum is going to make a big deal out of something. a prelude, a foreboding effect if you may.
the thing about being raised in an indian family is that you get excellent food. but in return you must pay a high price, that which being your figure and your right to privacy. for you see, even your aunt that lives somewhere in the back alley gutters of india will need to know your ic number, your birthday and the exact date on which you had your first period (so that they can calculate exactly when to marry you off to their son's second cousin twice removed who also happens to be an IT technician). that's just the way it is. chinese people keep everything to themselves (which is probably why they didn't have a macdonalds until 1990) and indian people can't keep anything to themselves (which is why they were both a british colony AND a french colony).
the torment that followed that painfully silent rest of the car ride is enough to fuck up any child. thankfully i'm normal. yeah... riiiight. i've practically got "exhibit A" written on a label stuck to my forhead. sigh... i was made to recount my story 12496586538 times to each relative, each with a standard set of quiz questions of their own. and then some.
the truth is that though i had the dream, it was still a dream. details tend to escape you. its just a fuzzy memory when you wake up. it was a chore keeping the story straight to every single one of my relatives. by the time they were done badgering (the child version of) me, i was convinced that i would be needing an exorcism and a visit to India's finest astrologers.
finally, i was allowed to go and play with my cousins while my relatives gathered together and discussed me, each one throwing different suggestions as to what to do with me: the blessed freak child who had dreamed of the topless blue man. while there were some who thought i was making it up, much to my annoyance (it was a dream for crying out loud, even if i was making it up, so fucking what right?), most of the others believed me and wanted to bring me to a soothsayer that they frequented often (i come from a family of religious kooks. explains a lot huh?) for some unfathomable reason.
in any case, i really couldn't bring myself to care anymore. the worst was over. i was finally able to join my cousins in the games. who cares if they wanted to exorcise me. let tomorrow's problem lie today. i went out to the front to join my cousins (the house was one of those terrace houses. sold it last year. some good times there.)
one of them came up and asked me...
"what did they want? why you take so long?"
"dunno."
"huh?"
"they wanted to know about a dream i had about Aladdin. big deal."
"hah?"
"yeah. that's what i said. what're we playing?"
"nooooo... why would i lie about a dream?" i said somewhat annoyed that she didn't believe me. it was my dream after all.
my mum turned back and i caught her looking sideways at my dad meaningfully. it made me quite uncomfortable. when we got to my grandmother's house, i finally realised why. it was then when i knew exactly when my mum is going to make a big deal out of something. a prelude, a foreboding effect if you may.
the thing about being raised in an indian family is that you get excellent food. but in return you must pay a high price, that which being your figure and your right to privacy. for you see, even your aunt that lives somewhere in the back alley gutters of india will need to know your ic number, your birthday and the exact date on which you had your first period (so that they can calculate exactly when to marry you off to their son's second cousin twice removed who also happens to be an IT technician). that's just the way it is. chinese people keep everything to themselves (which is probably why they didn't have a macdonalds until 1990) and indian people can't keep anything to themselves (which is why they were both a british colony AND a french colony).
the torment that followed that painfully silent rest of the car ride is enough to fuck up any child. thankfully i'm normal. yeah... riiiight. i've practically got "exhibit A" written on a label stuck to my forhead. sigh... i was made to recount my story 12496586538 times to each relative, each with a standard set of quiz questions of their own. and then some.
the truth is that though i had the dream, it was still a dream. details tend to escape you. its just a fuzzy memory when you wake up. it was a chore keeping the story straight to every single one of my relatives. by the time they were done badgering (the child version of) me, i was convinced that i would be needing an exorcism and a visit to India's finest astrologers.
finally, i was allowed to go and play with my cousins while my relatives gathered together and discussed me, each one throwing different suggestions as to what to do with me: the blessed freak child who had dreamed of the topless blue man. while there were some who thought i was making it up, much to my annoyance (it was a dream for crying out loud, even if i was making it up, so fucking what right?), most of the others believed me and wanted to bring me to a soothsayer that they frequented often (i come from a family of religious kooks. explains a lot huh?) for some unfathomable reason.
in any case, i really couldn't bring myself to care anymore. the worst was over. i was finally able to join my cousins in the games. who cares if they wanted to exorcise me. let tomorrow's problem lie today. i went out to the front to join my cousins (the house was one of those terrace houses. sold it last year. some good times there.)
one of them came up and asked me...
"what did they want? why you take so long?"
"dunno."
"huh?"
"they wanted to know about a dream i had about Aladdin. big deal."
"hah?"
"yeah. that's what i said. what're we playing?"
genie! for chissakes, would you put a shirt on?! some kid's going to be dreaming about a topless blue man now...you cannot make this shit up, im telling you...
