I wonder if dreams ever really mean anything. Wrapped in my quilt, warm, and snugly tugged in, it was a perfect night for sound sleep. A few minutes into my comfort, I found myself in a strange place, the Bhutani Dhaba.
I was dreaming, of course, a very, very lucid dream. So clear, it almost seems like I am narrating a real incident, a real legend that was fortunate enough to be a part of.
I was sitting in a corner of a little room, with four long wooden benches for seats,hugging all the walls, a break in one corner lead to the kitchen. About five people were seated with me, all busy with talks of their day to day lives, and the owner, the Bhutani, standing inside the kitchen door wearing a blue jacket, with a seemingly permanent smile on his face.
Everything about the the place spoke of honesty and a humble Pahari (people of the Himalayas) nature. I was oblivious to the world when I found myself sitting there, the chilling cold felt like the Dhaba was somewhere close to the actual himalayas. It was probably snowing outside, and as the steam from the rasoi (kitchen) escaped into the main room, the Bhutani burst into laughter, in a conversation with a local-ite. He got along well with them, I guess.
He served everyone food with the same smile, and then came and sat with us. There was no business, no pretence involved here, it was all survival. Although the place was extremely small, no one was cramped, and everyone was comfortable and warm. It felt nice being there, nothing else mattered.
Outside, a cold world slowly became colder, but did nothing to endanger the warmth inside. A local-ite asked him energetically
“Bhutani, Ghar kab jar aha hai?” (When are you going to your country?)
“Abhi jaoonga kabhi bhee” (I will go soon, Anytime now!)
“Sath le chalega?” (will you take us along?)
“Naam likho, sabko saath le chaloonga” (Sign on the wall, I will take you all with me!)
He pointed outside the window to a wall made of stone and clay covered with an old, rusted iron sheet to protect against a melting snow seeping through. I got up and wrote my name with charcoal…
I wonder what my dream meant..
