The Seven Dreams

There were bodies all around, but still the war did not seem it was going to end

soon. He had killed only two men, what else can be expected of a common farmer

who has picked up the sword to protect his town. The enemies were fierce and on

horseback. Slowly he began to realize that his death was imminent. That’s when he

saw the terrifying figure approaching him; two of his fellow mates were ripped apart

with a single slash. Now he could see the scar, his blood turned into ice and before he

could raise his sword searing pain shot through his heart. After pain came silence, an

everlasting peace which seemed to envelope him. “Where am I?” he asked. “You are

still bounded here.” “Who is it?” he began to shout and woke up with a jolt.

David Fletcher looked at his table clock and it read 3:05 am. He touched his

forehead and felt himself sweating profusely. He knew he was having nightmares again

but surprisingly he could remember every detail in this one, especially the scared face.

After some restless goggling he could see that scar again on his computer screen.

Below the face it read Attila the Hun. It was already five in the morning David slipped

back into sleep with no nightmares.

Later that day, mulling over his dream David read about everything the Internet

could offer him on Attila. He wondered what the dream signified. David Fletcher was

a hardworking law student in the New York Central University and his busy schedule

meant that he tires quickly for bed. After a lite dinner that evening he was back in his

bed.

The crown of thorns was beginning to pierce his skin. There were lash marks all

over his body; raw flesh could be seen in places. But still he seemed to endure the pain

calmly. Finally they reached the hill where was to be crucified. The cross was setup and

 he was hoisted onto it. The first nail was driven through his palm and then through the

other then finally near his ankle. He could see women crying at distance, from which he

 could recognize his mother, a smiled drew upon his face. Slowly but surely life began to

drain out of him. He could see light now. Is that you father? Yes my son you have done

well. Thank you my father shall I return to you now? No, my son you are still bounded.

When David woke up next morning it did not take him much time to realize that

he dreamt of the crucifixion of Christ and what he dreamt himself as the Christ. He

wondered maybe the Sunday sermons were affecting him. He followed his daily routine

until later in the evening he lied on his bed and thought of what he might face that night.

He had no idea.

Starring at the blank canvas, he had no inspiration to draw. His subject, a young

mistress of a wealthy patron was shuffling uncomfortably. Her beauty was undeniable,

but still it could not inspire him. He had long stopped drawing portraits but a request

from one of his most influential patron could not be put down. He sent her away and

thought of how to finish the painting, it was then he had an idea. He set up a mirror in

front the canvas and started drawing himself in feminine form. He thus spent four years

 on it and carried it with him until his death. The painting had a sense of mystic around it

and everyone who saw it were intrigued by it. The woman was none other than ‘Mona

Lisa’.

First Attila, then Jesus and now Da Vinci, David was confused. He could not

think of a reason why he was having such strange dreams. He passed most of the day

wondering. He could still vividly remember all three scenes as if he was there for real.

He spent half the night wondering what his next dream would be before drifting off into

deep slumber.

It was certainly the English countryside, the lush green grass and the mid-

summer weather proved it. A house could be seen with a well-kept orchard at the back.

There under one tree a young man could be seen who looked like he whiled away most

of his summer pondering. But the young man knew what he done that summer could

change the world forever. Still a final block seemed missing; he was searching for it in

his mind under the apple tree. The tree as though it felt that it needed to inspire him

let an apple fall on his head. It worked! Now he understood, now he knew what was

happening, he discovered the truth.

Isaac Newton! No way but still he could fell the bump on his head. He concluded

that he was seeing things and fixed up an appointment with the psychiatrist the next

week. Involuntarily he started to wait eagerly for night to come.

He could smell the rotting flesh around him. He looked up to see around him,

men and women were slowly rotting away to death. Where was he? In hell? No there

are soldiers guarding him. They had Nazi badges on their shoulders. He was in a Nazi

concentration camp. Now he and some other men are being escorted to the firing

range. He knew what his fate would be; he could hear the words load, aim and fire! In a

second his body was riddled with scores of bullets, he dropped dead there.

David did not wake until later that afternoon and when he did wake up he cried

 his heart out and he slept again. He woke again that evening starved and cleared out

 most of his reserves till he was full. He felt drowsy but did not dare to bat an eyelid.

  Finally his body took over and he was soon sleeping like a child.

There were cheers all around; people seemed to have gathered from all walks

 of life. There was a huge Dias in the middle of the stage; it looked like a presidential

 address. What was he seeing? A black man approaching the Dias as if he was the

 president this could not be possible. He looked at him more closely it was him! A little

 older version of David himself. He could hear words from the Dias “ If there is anyone

 out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible, who still

 wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time, who still questions the power

 of our democracy, tonight is your answer."

When David arouse the next day he had his answer and he knew more than ever

 what his ultimate goal would be. He now realized what all his dreams meant, they were

  all parts of his avatars and he was in a cycle of rebirths since eternity. He finally found

  purpose and meaning of life through the experience of his previous births or rather

 deaths. That night David went to bed contentedly as he did not expect any more avatars

  visiting him.

He slowly opened his eyes and walked up to the window to let daylight in. He

 stood there enjoying the view of flying cars dodging traffic; he turned around to instruct

  his robot to get him a coffee…

--- Ravi Teja Palla

P.S. This piece of fiction was written quite a while ago and some of you must have already read it, for those who haven't, hope you enjoyed and please leave you valuable comments in either case.