Forget everything why remember what was, was. Time waits not move on it must; only you stand stand alone, crying! I saw this in my notebook. When did I write this – do not remember. But seems someone was really hurting.  It was certainly not me. I know myself and how I feel when sad or hurting. I just curl and go somewhere deep inside me and stay there till I feel like emerging and joining the humankind. Yes, I know myself and know my way of dealing with other peoples stress, hurt, loss etc. As they say chot kisi ko lge dard mere dil meIn hota he. This is absolutely how it is with me. Not good , hanh? And if their grief is too deep, I hurt with them for days and later, have to make an effort  to get this feeling out of my system. I also start writing,  pouring out on the paper. I become that person, as if  all that happened to me.  Believe me this is cathartic – very! The writing – I mean. But with happiness, I am honest. I celebrate being happy and love watching happy people, celebrate with them, celebrate my happiness with them! Feeling happy is easy, not as complicated as being sad or unhappy. This helps me with my creative work … gives the feel of reality to my writing. I had a nightmere last night. When little, if we woke up screaming in the middle of the night, our mama would be very concerned. In the morning she would draw every detail of our dream out of us.  She would be very quiet and sitting still, listening to our dream. And when we finished relating it, she would still be quiet for sometime, thinking probably. Once she had thought over each detail, then she would get up saying that dream was good. but it was the way she would say that.  Seriously or lightly. If seriously then for the next so many days she would be seen watching over us like a sentry and the alms giving would be on frequent basis.  Otherwise, it was all well and we would be allowed to go to friends house or let them come over. So I had a nightmere last night. I don’t know what other couples do if one of them has a nightmere. Mine is very practical. Also, my poor dear gets up for namaz i shab and needs a comfortable, non interrupted sleep. I totally understand that so I myself baby myself in such situations. The question is why do I have these horror dreams in the first place? If it was too terrifying, I would share it with him in the morning,  if it was not that bad, I would forget by morning, so there is nothing to talk to or about.  But this one was a biggie.  It kept me awake for a long time and had an erratic sleep after that. The feeling of horror was still lurking somewhere in the psyche. Finally it was morning.  I slowly raised my head from under my blanket. The blinds were open and the room was flooded with bright sunlight – like spun gold. Some one was rowing a small red dingy in the lake. Probably a gift from parents or dotting grandparents. The sight filled my heart with equally bright and happy feeling of well being.  “What a beautiful day!” Louis Armstrong  number on my lips, I threw back the blanket  and got up. But the nightmere ? what nightmere? At least share ,  who was it about? No need to go into that either. I am sure my friend across the Atlantic is going about life as usual !