Fountain grass gooseberries
You know the feeling you get in the morning, waking up from a dream to find your surrounding is totally different and undesirable? Your own room feels like a different place and all you want is to crawl back into that black hole and go back to that dream. Yes I am in that mood today, now.
It was a beautiful summer dream. The time must be late evening, The whole scene is lit with reddish-yellow gradient haze. Like the kind of lighting that happens once in a while during twilight - due to strange cosmic phenomenon. I am standing in the terrace at my grandma's place, looking down,with my hands resting on the wall. The garden at the front yard is filled with lush, dark fountain grass. There is a small pathway made of fine beach sand that separates the sea of fountain grass. Like a thin line when a women's hair is neatly combed to two parts.
There are two kids lying in the sand. Everything is in shades of red-yellow-orange except for green gooseberries which are sprinkled everywhere like chocolate chips on desserts. To my right is a big leaf less gooseberry tree. The one I (used to) climb up and sit for hours with hand full of rock salt at any time of the day, devouring the small fruits. The raw, the sour, the ripe and the 'almost bad'.( I remember tasting them all). I look down at the gooseberries with the same feeling as that of squirrel's for nuts in Ice age movie. I want to collect them all, so I run down.
On the sand-filled path way, I see the kids giggling and immersed in their own conversation. They are actually my brother and my cousin. They must be around 3 years, and were wearing only underpants. I lie down next to them, letting my head rest in my cousin's lap. We laugh, we talk although I did not understand the words. I only feel the feeling.
The sky is cloudless and gooseberries were falling as we speak, some on me and near me. I grab a few and taste them. I want more. I crawl up and walk over to the wall where there is a pot filled with mud. I plant the seeds from my mouth into the mud. Pressing my little fingers (now I realize I must be young too) deep into the mud and putting those seeds one after another. " When they grow up I would replant them somewhere" I tell my cousin as I turn back.
Except there is no one there. I don't see my cousin or my brother in the sandy pathway. Like a sand storm, the scene is slowly vanishing. I try hard to touch the surroundings - to hold on to them, those fountain grass, gooseberries, the water like sand, but no I couldn't. I feel like been dragged into the different part of the world in a smooth escalator. As the pleasant numbness goes away, I feel myself clutching hard to my bed sheets in my room in Singapore. The morning light glimmered on my face from curtains and I could hear welding and hamerring sounds from construction next door. The blank wall kept staring at me.
The red-yellow gradient haze is evaporating leaving a scent of memory in my mind right now. This dream nor this post needs a conclusion.