Challenge 63: A Bad Dream

242. Describe a recurring dream.

I'm falling. I don't know if it is from a cliff or just from my bed. But it happens. Again and again. I fall and fall, into darkness, into nothingness. There is nobody around me. It is all dark and black. I'm not even sure if there is a sky above me or if there is a ground that I will eventually meet. I am unsure. I cannot smell anything or taste anything. It is frustrating to not know what is happening. I do not see my hands and feet. I'm not even sure if it is me falling. Or maybe I am just watching somebody else fall. No, but I do feel something and it is sickening. I don't know why I even remember that feeling. I have only jumped once from a cliff and that took so much courage. I thought that feeling had already disappeared into my busy life. But it comes out in that dream, that feeling. It is the worst of all. I feel like my heart has jumped into my throat. I feel like my stomach has taken my heart's place. I feel like all the organs inside my body are displaced and malfunctioning. I feel like there is going to be no ending to this feeling. Oh, how badly I wish someone would catch me, hold my hands, and pull me back upwards. Then, I wake up all of a sudden. I find myself gripping the side of my bed, my hands sweaty and arms tired. I do not know what has happened, but waking up from the dream, I feel safe and reassured. No, it’s not the end of the world. I smile to myself and try to fall back asleep. I think to myself. Maybe this dream means something. Maybe it’s showing me how bad things can get. Maybe it’s telling me to keep looking for something, searching for something to rescue me. Maybe it wants me to know that familiar things can disappear and I might get lost. However, I just have to find my way back. Maybe it’s telling me that in the midst of nothingness, there is still a hope, a hope of waking up. But, on the other hand, it could just be a bad dream. 

Challenge 62: Ama

206. What makes your dad or mom special

If I remember correctly, I was in the fourth grade when it happened. I wasn't prepared for it and neither was my sister. It was just another rushed morning where I tried to gobble up the food before the school bus came to pick us up. If it wasn't for the super sensitive taste buds, I would have never guessed.

But it did happen. As always, I woke up that morning just twenty minutes before my school bus arrived. In a hurry, I washed, brushed, changed, packed my bag, and headed down for breakfast with my sister following close behind. I couldn't find matching socks to wear and that left me frustrated and close to tears (I start to cry when I panic- old habit). Just ten minutes before leaving for school, I was sitting in the kitchen with the breakfast steaming in front of me. As I come from a typical Nepali family, sitting on my plate were rice, lentils, spinach, and some cauliflower mixed together. Because of the cold season, my mother had added some ghee in the rice. Or so she thought. 


As my helper came running down the steps with the matching pair of socks in one hand and the polished black shoes in another, my mother fed me the first bite. Unlike other mornings, it tasted different. It tasted sweet when it shouldn't have. I knew something was wrong, and by the looks of my sister, she knew as well. I looked at my mother as muffled words of protest struggled to escape my mouth. She looked at me, irritated, and told me to hurry up and eat. I tried again, but she got angrier and annoyed. She told me to stop complaining and finish my food quickly before the bus arrived.


Tears streaming down my face, I struggled to finish the food on my plate. Then, I was rushed to the school bus which had been sitting on the road and honking for a couple of minutes. And, by lunch time, I had forgotten all about what had happened earlier. As school got over and I climbed on the bus along with the receptionist at school. She saw me, recognized me, and told me that my mother had called earlier for me. Since I was attending class, I wasn't informed. Wondering why she had called, I took my place at the back of the bus and got lost in some conversations.


As I took off my shoes when I entered the house, my mother rushed to me. I asked her why she had called school, to which she replied that she had called to apologize. Instead of the ghee that was supposed to be in the rice, she had mistakenly added honey! We shared a laugh together and that was left as that. 


I believe this story best explains why my mom is like. She is fast, organized, quick to register things. She loves her children, her home, her family. She is responsible and respectful. She knows she has to take care of the house and is occasionally burdened by that fact. But, she gives it her very best. However, the factor that makes her most special is that she gives respect to everybody and anybody. She doesn't hesitate even once before apologizing for making a mistake, whether it is to an elderly person or her own children.