Gale Dreams About Flying Whale

It is just another mundane monday at the University. 

I am inside room no. 206. Sitting on the benche beside Sharif. Leaning my head on the table. Half asleep and half awake. Taking in and forgetting whatever History lesson Harun sir is spitting out. I am gonna regret this. But I cannot help feeling droopy because of the morning shift routine.

With hazy vision I am looking at the whiteboard, which is now projecting a poem of T S Elliot. T S Elliot,  T S Elliot, I repeated to myself. I have to Remember this. What period is sir currently on? Industrialism? Which year was that? 18th? I have to turn some pages. But the book is in my backpack and I am too tired to get it out. I told to myself, whatever. 

I looked at the whiteboard and saw, sir already moved to another Poet. I sighed and rest my head on the table again. I surrender to the fate. Que sera sera.

With furtive eyes, I looked at Her. The almost mythical, almost goddess, Her. 

She was also not focusing on sir's lecture. I was amused. She was resting her head on her left arm and with the other hand, she is skiing her pen on a snowy paper. Doodling?I guess. I kept my eyes fixed at her. She is intently drawing something. So focused. So fixated in her activity! As If that drawing will change her course of life!

(The color of the tubeLight changed from boring white to dreamy blue)

She stops drawing. Her eyeball suddenly moved towards me. I was unprepared. Gulped. She straightens her back. I straighten mine. Not breaking our attention from each other. She stands up. I give a panicked look at Harun sir. He is frozen in midst of his lecture. Mouth ajar. Left hand in his pocket, right hand in the air.

I looked around and found everyone's  physical body Inanimate. I shifted my face towards her. She is standing right beside me. A Towering  figure. I jumped. Nearly knocking out now a statue Sharif.

She said,"this is for you"

Huh..What?, I said

She said, You were staring at my drawing, so.. here. You can keep it. 

-I said to myself, I was staring at you. But out loud I said, "oh, geez, thanks, great!"

I turned the paper and saw a confused looking man, staring back at me. In Black Ink. Cross-Hatching. Nearly abstract.

I blurted out, "woo!". she did not react.

Something came over me and I said, could you sign this? 

Sign? She looked puzzled.

Yeah! Just to let people know this is genuine.

-Why would people want to know? 

I don't know, I said honestly.

Yeah, why not. She surrendered. I gave her my pen. She signed her Initial M.W at the down-right  corner of the page. 

-Happy? 

-I guess so.

I looked at the image. Stared at it for a few moments. Then diverted my eyes to her. 

Except there was no her. There was no class. I was in a rail station.  I saw rail tracks, station roofs on the other side of tracks, and busy, irritated, tired faces around. How come I arrived here? And why?

I look at my hand, the paper I was holding previously now sandwitched between a glass, with wooden frames. How, I wondered. Just then an announcement from the comp buzzed, breaking my attention. 

"A train towards [ mentions her name] reality is arriving shortly, please prepare your mind and baggage. Thank You. And Side please!"

Whats that supposed to mean? 

-"side please" someone with a rough voice shoved me at the side. I looked at the rude guy. And just as i suspected, a  5'7" inch tall, bulky, 30/40 something man walking by with "I own everything" attitude. I felt a bitter taste in my mouth.