Dreams for sale!

Written for a story-writing competition sometime in 2007-08. Addendum - 2023 from AI prompts

I was sitting on the large metal swing in the porch pondering about myself, three nights after winter solstice.

My thoughts about my way of life, my heart, my soul, my loneliness about my successes and failures.
 
Loneliness is the poverty. Solitude is the richness. Success is a public affair. Failure is a private funeral. Some quotes run along my thoughts.
 
It was very late in the night. Twinkling stars in the sky are slowly dimming as the fog rolling out from Shikharchandi begins to thicken.

A sound jolted me back from my stream of thoughts. Someone was calling out 'Dreams! Dreams! Dreams! Dreams!'  Who else is awake at this unearthly hour except me?

 
I stood up to come out of the porch and the book "Only Love is True" dropped from my lap, closing it out at whatever chapter that I was reading. I left it as it is and looked out. Only couple of streetlights were on and even they were stuttering to stay lit. And below one of those lights, stood this man with a huge bag hanging over his shoulders.

 
He stood there shouting "Dreams! dreams! dreams!". Something made me want to go and talk with this man. Who was he? What was he doing at this time? Why dreams?

I went inside the house that I shared with couple of other guys. The housemates were dead asleep in the hall. 'All Out' fixed to the socket in a corner blinked sleepily too. 

By the time I opened the gates, he moved away and was now standing at the far end of the street.
 
The man was old, ancient. A shawl covered his head and hung loose across his shoulders. A bag hanging down the left shoulder was huge, yet it looked very light as though it was filled with air. He looked pale and frail. 

I moved a bit closer, calling out - 'who are you? Why are you shouting in the middle of this night?'. The man was not shouting loudly, but just whispering. How did his whisper wake me out? How did I hear it so loudly?

"Dreams... Dreams... dreams for sale! Dreams for thoughts! Dreams for memories!” he was still whispering and not exactly responding to my questions.

 
I thought of playing along, dared and asked. "How much is one dream? Can I choose the dream that I want?" 
 
His eyes were closed as he smiled and said "Oh! You want buy dreams, my son!  You cannot buy these dreams with money. You need to give out your thoughts. Your memories in exchange for these dreams. Better the memory, better the dream." He smiled with his toothless mouth. 

"How can I be sure that you have dreams?" I asked.
 
He said, “Call me by any name son! I live in dreams. I move in dreams. I grant people their dreams. Their wishes. I let people into dreams. I pull them out from dreams."  His bag moved as a gust of wind blew.
 
How many times did I work to turn my dreams into a reality? Why did I despise the current reality that I am in and why was I choosing to escape away from it? That one dream in particular! Am I coward to face the reality or am I an eternal romantic, as one of my office’s newsletters said? I don’t know.
 
I looked at his closed eyes.  Fog thickened and I could look nothing beyond couple of feet. A chill creeped in. Something said that I can believe in him. I thought hard at the memories that I had in my mind, sorting for the best of that lot.

 
Memories of childhood, school friends, winning the college elections. The protests. The events. Death of a friend. The songs to evening air. The poems on the beach. The dreams of a bright career. The fight for it; winning it. Recognitions in firm. My solitude. My books. Long lonely rides into midnight until dawn.
 
As I was thinking, he spoke again.
 
"My son! Aren't you forgetting something?".
"What?" I said with my sorting half done. Does this man read my thoughts? 

And be it indeed that I have loved, mine love remained with myself.
The Book Of My Life. Chapter 24. Verse 1.
 
"Isn't that a part of your memories, your thoughts?"
“How do you know about that?” This night turning into a horror-mystery movie.
“I know a lot about it but would like to hear it from you. Your version. Not the one I destined for you, of which however you do not know!”
 
‘He destined my life! Why am I even talking to this crazy guy?’ I thought.
 
“She is (or should that be ‘was’) the one that shared my thoughts, knew my strengths, my weaknesses. She shared her frustrations, fears, joys, sorrows. Without inhibitions, we accepted each other for what we were.  We looked forward for a life bound together, a shared future filled with common joys and sorrows. A path where we could be for one another. So many mornings made more brighter with her smile. Those endless evening walks on the beach, filled with nothing but our togetherness. The butterflies on that hill, with low crescent moon hanging in the middle of an ocean of stars.

Then may be as you destined for me, she parted forever. Gone, leaving behind nothing but memories. No matter what I do, I cannot bring her back. The future that we looked forward to, now shattered beyond repair. How much do I want to have just one glimpse of her, just one more moment to spend with her? Nope. It's not happening. Not in this mortal realm. It was in this longing for her that that I felt all of a sudden that I was in love. Dumb and dead Love. I cried about it - silent cries into the empty void that was around me and within me. It was almost for the first time in my life that I was trying to come to terms with one event which was my love as well as and my failure.”
 
There was a deep pain in my throat as though a knife was cutting through it. I could speak no more. The pain from my guts. Tears flooded my eyes. 
 
“Thank you, my son! Thanks for sharing your thoughts and memories of what you call as ‘love’. For this, the best that I can offer is to take you out of this dream and put you into another. And I think you will consider it as a fair deal!”  Saying so, he laughed putting his hand on my head as though blessing me.
 
I could only see a blurred image before me as my eyes were filled with tears. Tears of pain.
 
He wiped off those tears, pulled something bright and colorful from his bag and wound it around my hand. The end of that thing was still in his bag. My eyes closed letting out the tears which dropped into infinite eternity.
 
I heard a faint music. Divine music which wakes up Lord of Seven Hills. My wakeup song on my mobile. I covered my eyes by my hands from the sunlight flooding into the porch. A bright new morning. I sat up, thinking 'what a dream!'

Rest of the house is empty as everyone else left for the office. I freshened up, got on my bike and raced towards those glassy buildings of work as I was running late for the call with onsite. I parked my bike in its usual place in that parking lot below some nameless tree or at least I do not know its name.
 
I rushed into my building and bumped into someone right after crossing that huge glass door. A whirl of colors filled my eyes and the fragrance surrounded me. I tried to move forward after saying a clumsy ‘sorry’ to the lady, but something was pulling my hand towards her. It was then that I saw a beautiful colored band around my wrist that got locked up which her bracelet.
 
I smiled sheepishly. She smiled in return. A smile as fresh as a budding rose. A smile beautiful as a fully bloomed red rose. It seemed like a moment of eternity. A moment when hearts miss a beat not literally at the same time. The Moment.
 
I unhooked the link and she left nodding her head, smiling brightly. Just like a Bollywood new-age classic, I turned around just to find her also turning around. I smiled again nodding my head, looking at that strange glittering color band around my wrist, a piece of which was fluttering on her bracelet.
 
“Dreams… dreams… dreams for sale!” I heard someone’s faint whisper as I rushed up the stairs to meet my team mates who were glaring at me from that conference room.

--- Improvised from content generated off prompts to ChatGPT Model 4 ---

As I stepped into the conference room, I couldn't help but think about the strange series of events that had just unfolded. From the dream to the encounter in the lobby, everything felt surreal. I quickly apologized for my tardiness and joined the ongoing call.

Throughout the day, I couldn't get that smile and the woman out of my head. The way our eyes met and the almost magical way our bands were connected felt too special to be a mere coincidence. It made me wonder if the dream had some truth in it after all.

During lunch, I decided to share my experience with my colleagues, recounting the dream and the strange encounter with the woman in the lobby. They listened attentively, and some of them even shared their own tales of dreams and coincidences. We laughed together, and for a moment, I felt a sense of camaraderie that had been missing for a long time.

As the day went on, I found myself frequently glancing at the colored band around my wrist. It seemed to serve as a reminder that there might be more to life than just work and success. It reminded me of love, connection, and the importance of cherishing the people and moments that matter most.

That evening, as I left the office, I decided to take a different route back home, hoping to run into the woman with the enchanting smile again. And, as if fate was on my side, I saw her walking ahead of me on the sidewalk. I quickened my pace and caught up with her, introducing myself and striking up a conversation.

She was charming and easy to talk to, and we soon found ourselves discussing our dreams and aspirations. We exchanged numbers and agreed to meet up again soon. As we parted ways, I couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and excitement about what the future might hold.

Maybe the old man in my dream was right – sometimes, all it takes is a moment of vulnerability and a willingness to share our innermost thoughts and memories in exchange for a new beginning. As I walked home, with the colorful band still wrapped around my wrist, I couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected turn of events and the newfound sense of hope that filled my heart.