Saturday, 16 February 2013

Floppy Tennis

The dream begins at a tennis game. I am a boy and playing against two other schoolboy friends. Strangely, I am not dressed in Mattar Primary School uniform but that of Boys Town English Primary. I am trying to show the boys some tennis moves. One of these is the forehand topspin. I sort of succeed, and realize that I am using an old Yonex aluminium racket, one that is light green and once owned by an elder sister. But although the game starts off well, things slowly take a surreal turn. When I try to execute an overhand lob, the racket turns soft like noodle. I kind of flop the shot through and miss contacting with the ball entirely.

We continue the game awhile, but matters do not improve. I keep missing the ball because the floppy racket.

Next, we are in a large field flying remote control planes. I see my arm doing the same floppy movement. This time, however, in my hand is a remote control. I am waving (or flopping) the control about to direct the plane, like some Wii game controller. The plane flies about in sync with my 'movement commands'. I seem elated by that and run about the field as if I'm flying a kite; the model plane flying in the sky as if connected by an invisible string to my handheld remote. In my mind, I am thinking what a marvelous invention that would be, being able to point the remote at the plane and direct its movements... Including doing a loop-de-loop.

The scene again changes, but the focus is still on a hand. This time, instead of holding something floppy, I am gripping an iron bar that's a handhold inside a robot's fist. I am punching as if it is my boxing glove. I realize I am inside a robot suit and involved in some sort of futuristic robot boxing match. I am boxing and people outside are cheering. This continues for a while and the scene fades, like that of movie ending. The dream then ends. And I am none the wiser.

Wednesday, 6 February 2013

Escape to Fado

In this dream, I am stuck in a semi-submerged tanker. Not a very big one but its central hold - the size of a small swimming pool - is filling up with water and the whole rusty contraption is listed to one side. I am beating the water to keep some creatures down. Not sure what but they are ferocious. I try to climb up the side ledge of the tanker even as I try to hold on and defend myself.

There are two other people with me in the tanker, each trying to survive from what's in the water.

The scene changes. Shots are being fired at a wall. They blast through leaving holes grouped rather close together. Shots fired from close range?

My family is trying to get out. For some reason, we are being pursued. We fire back.

As we retreat, I set up booby traps, the kind that employ a string, a can and a hand grenade.

We leave as the building blasts from the inside, throwing a black cloud of dust outwards and upwards through the doorway - or what used to be a doorway. The blast also throws us to the ground.

We cough, pick ourselves up and dust off. We see a gap in a fallen wooden fence and race through it.

On the other side, a pack of wolves lies waiting. I leap over and start to bash the wolves left and right. I don't feel good hitting them as I quite like wolves for their bravery and intelligence. But hey, when bark turns to bite, I rather not be the one to be bitten!

The wolves put up a fight but it is only temporary. They scatter soon enough when someone comes  running with a torch of fire. That person is rather manic, swinging his torch as if fending off unseen zombies.

I look down and am surprised to find myself and my family up a tree. We can see the shapes of wolves running away. However, a band of orcs is climbing up the side of the hill and shouting to burn us down. Wait, am I in The Hobbit movie? In a moment, Gandalf comes riding on a giant eagle and whisks us away. I know, in The Hobbit, Gandalf is also rescued by the eagles, not riding shotgun like some hero coming in as a savior.

We pass through clouds and I find myself on solid ground again. My family is not with me, only an old girlfriend. When the clouds clear, we find ourselves on a rocky shore. A lighthouse is not far in front. It appears we are back at Cabo da Roca, a remote tourist attraction (or rock outcrop) that bills itself as the furthest point west of the European continent. A few buildings surround the lighthouse. There isn't much to see except for a sign that proclaims the significance of the place. I think anybody who turns up here will take a picture with that sign. We do the same.

Afterwards a guy insists we stay to take photos for the others. After a while, we flee. The road is an isolated country road that winds down a hill. Fortunately a bus comes along and we hop on. Sometime later we arrive at a village. The streets seem too narrow for the bus but it manages to squeeze through though.

We arrive and stop at a cafe that bills itself as the place for Fado, a kind of Portuguese music. We enter and sit down for a drink of coffee. A small band plays while a lady sings.

The song appears sad but nice to listen to. It is no different from what Edith Piaf used to sing, I think. As the sun sets, we make our way out of the cafe and head to a place for grilled sardines. We could see lights and smoke and soon, someone operating a grill. My girlfriend and I smile at each other as we take a slow leisurely stroll towards where the smell of grilled fish and onions is coming from. We feel happy and content.

A Dream of Kuan

This dream I had dreamt of in parts before, especially at the beginning, where I find myself walking through a small shopping mall and coming across a makan store.

I am walking along and near the end of a corridor when I see a an local cafe selling stuff wrapped in ketupat leaves. The food packages are of various sizes including one that is quite large - not unlike a packet of nasi lemak. I ask for the price and find it expensive. I tell the macik no, I don't think so and walk on. Some items on display continue to interest me.

I walk on past some clothing stores. Eventually I come to a sofa bench and sit down. After a while I find a desktop scanner cover next to me. Where's the rest of the machine, I wonder. Then I notice a small black laptop, only that it is not. It holds a smaller game machine in its casing, like a Nintendo DSi XL. A blue and white school bag lies nearby, unattended.

Suddenly I realise that two boys are playing handheld games in front of me. They are sitting in some sort of boxed-in sofa seat, why I have not noticed them before and they, me.

I contemplate hiding their stuff to 'punish' them, but think better of it. I move away quietly. The boys do not notice, still too engrossed and noisy in their game play.

I leave the shopping centre and wait at the bus stop opposite. There I bump into my Engineering schoolmate, Kuan. He seems distracted, if not a little polar... smiling but troubling inside. I knew he went to China to work. Did it not work out?

We are about to board a bus and I ask Kuan if he likes to go for coffee instead. He agrees and we cross the road back to the shopping centre. We seem to have gotten to the blind side of the complex and there is no entrance. We help each other climb up and down a few parapets and flower beds to get onto a corridor. Eventually we walk round to the entrance.

Inside, we try to find a place to sit down for a drink. A lady calls out to me. She appears to run a cafe shop. I look round to inform Kuan. He has wandered off to another place.

I search for him but at each turn of the corner, can only catch glimpses of him. Eventually, I catch up to him and finds that we are now in his home, a large complex. An older man greets Kuan and he goes off with him.

The entrance to his home is high and reminds me of the large atrium of a corporation. I can also see that it is situated on a hill.

I can still hear Kuan but he stays out of sight; I wonder why he is being so elusive. The lady of the house, an Eurasian, invites me in for a drink.

We move upstairs to a verandah area to sit and talk and drink tea.

Beyond this, another hall, one that is made to look rustic, standing by itself like some ethnic community hall. The rest of the house has been concrete and painted in white. This new hall is made of timber and grass and stands out vividly like a prayer hall atop a hill. In the distance, the weather has changed and clouds can be seen growing and rolling. It is an amazing sight and the lady of the house comments so. By now, a gaggle of ladies have also joined us - some in their teens - for tea and  they say the same. Some are sipping tropical cocktail drinks served up by the bar from inside that timber hall.

Soon, the storm is upon us and all of us run in for cover.

Still, no sight of Kuan, although I continue to hear him speak with someone nearby.

The wind from the storm blows hard, flapping the bamboo blind around us. Rain begins to pelt. It is an awesome sight being so high and exposed.

I retreat into the big house again and stand behind a glass. I marvel at the storm now raging outside. It feels me with awe. I don't hear from Kuan and it seem not to matter anymore.