How to Lie in Dreams

 

How to Lie in Dreams

It is fortunately a public holiday, I woke up very, very late. In fact, it was after three attempts by my dog telling me, it is pretty late in the day, as far as he was concerned.

Why don’t you wake up?

That was his message.

He has got used to a good routine with me all because of our prolong industrial action, he knows all my routines by heart.

He never put his front feet on the bed but he did it toady to see whether I was really late but not dead on my sleep.

I had a nice long dream too.

For a change, I want you to interpret it, in my own ways.

The Dream

The dream goes backs to about 50 years.

It was in the Peradeniya Campus.

It was in the evening and I was doing my own jog around the campus. I was on the side of our physiology don’s house, who was a burgher gentleman.

I climbed a little soil mound and peeped over the window to see whether the madam was in to tease her. 

 To my horror she got into a panic mode and loudly said,

“Leela, the thief has come, catch him”

Leela is the wife of another don in the Faculty of Arts.

She got hold of a broomstick (that the recognized weapon and no T-56 then) and moved sideways and I followed her instinct for a few steps and quickly took a about turn and ran behind her house and the neighbors house, knowing well if I enter her front compound I could be caught, perhaps with a broomstick in her hand, too.

I took a detour and came round by another route to see Mrs. Leela was coming down across another alleyway with a big pole in her hand.

I took to my feet swiftly like a horse and was down a steep hill that lead to a small paddy (yes we had a little paddy filed inside the campus, then) field.

When I approached there well away from my attackers, I decided to have a pause to catch my breath and little peace in my mind.

I was in a pensive mood when an middle age woman approach me clad in muddy cloth with some kind of grass in her hand.

I thought she was cutting grass for the cow she had (yes we had cows in the campus, then).

She asked me whether I was a undergraduate.

I said, Yes.

Then she asked me whether I know the Vice Chancellor personally.

I did not know what to say.

Those days the V.C. is such a big stature, we undergraduates have no contact with him, unless we have done something very nasty and grave that we get a resound warning without any inquiry or criminal court.

I did not want to accept my predicament but said to her I knew him very well.

She said, “Aiyyoh Mahathaya Ahenum Baridaha Ahanna Thawa Kananayakata Wapuranna Denna Kiyala”.

Could you please ask him whether she can have another season of paddy cultivation instead of the special grass she was asked to grow.

I asked her what is this all about.

She told me that she was asked to lay the special type of grass on her paddy field instead of cultivating rice.

I asked, Why?

“Ane Maha Ragina Enawane”

Queen is visiting the country.

I told her I would try and had a few seconds pause to gather my composure and make good the fundamental error of “Peeping Tom” behaviour.

I walked the long route back to the house of our don.

On my way, I found the long pole Leela had dropped and I wanted to return it back in case she needs it. 

As I was walking up with the pole in hand, I saw V.C. coming down the lane.

There was no way of avoiding him.

I raised the pole as I was carrying a flag on top of it. I walked toward him bravely and the second running to escape was not in my mind.

He came down slowly with a majestic imposing posture.

He was wearing a British hat.

He paused having come down to where I was. I had become stationary by that time with the pole erect on my hand.

As he approached me I lowered it as if I was a pole vault jumper.

Are you practicing how to carry a flag on a pole.

I said, No.

I was practicing pole vault, I said.

I ordered a new one from England.

It is very heavy and of British standard, I told him.

This is of the correct weight for me.

Then he said, I see about your need anyway.

Thank you, Sir.

Where are taking it.

I said “to whom it belongs”.

He said Good Old Boy.

By now I knew I was in a good working relationship with the V.C. 

I took the courage to ask the question that poor lady could not ask from him.

Sir, May I,...... may I.... make a request for somebody.

Who is that somebody?

He was very attentive and inquisitive.

I said I met that woman and she wanted another season for rice cultivation.

That cannot be done he said abruptly.

Then, I looked at him very politely and said rice takes only three and half months to maturity and the grass only half that time and the Queen is coming one year from now and there is enough time to do all that.

Is that so?

You seem to know quite a lot, “are you an agriculture student”.

No Sir, I am Medical Student and put a little substance to my pole carrying adventure.

Then he said go and tell her she can have even two seasons but by the time Queen is here there should be a posh growth of green grass over there.

Then he went onto say. if I see you carrying poles instead of looking after patients, I will make you a pole bearer of the university and not in the parliament.

That is the type of environment we had when we were in the University.

It is quite different now.

I walked up to the house and met the lady and handed over the pole.

She was puzzled.

She had seen me in a bit of a long conversation with V.C. and she did not know what to say.

Then I went to the house of our burgher don and talked to the lady as nothing improper had happened.

She invited me for cup of tea with cookies, which was my original intention which was interrupted by her panic and commotion that followed.

I cannot remember how many lies I told her over the cup of tea.

That was a survival need as a young undergraduate, otherwise we would have been expelled within the first term of our academic year, if everybody knew what we did off academic hours.

The lady was a typical Victorian type.

I told her, if I was her, I would not invite the V.C. for a cup of tea, if my teacher was not at home.

She did not ask why?

Then, I said, V.C. was trying to enter the neighbour house’s from back door and he detoured having seen me with the pole.

Is that so?

Yes, I said loudly.

Mind you that was the biggest lie on that day.

By that time, I have begun to hate Leela for carrying a big pole to hit me instead of a broomstick.

Everybody, knew V.C. was a ladies man and there were enough in the Art Faculty to prey at that time but not in the Medical Faculty.

We exchanged pleasantries and I was a regular visitor and she was like a real aunt to me.

She is no more but probably in heaven.

Now this one is for you.

How many lies in total.

Unlike politicians who lie for a living in broad day light, I am entitled to lies in my dreams.

If you can help me to count them.

I have lost count of them.

Dream is a good recipe for people like me and we have this satisfaction of lying in our deep sleep mode.

That is why dream are for us and not for politicians.

I am told that the politicians see their lies in their own sleep get terrified and wake up ever so often not knowing how to coin the next lie.

My dream  applies to all politicians from Biden to Putin to Mahinda to Ranil to future politicians....................