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  • Writer's pictureAhsan Jamil

Day Dreams

In the lap of a velvet bed. In the comfort of a silky blanket. On the fluff of a feather pillow. Under the pale light of the night bulb. I am sleepless. My brain is working overtime. But in this sleepless state, how can I avoid disturbing others? I'm already done with ‘The Archer’ by Paulo Coelho. I have surfed the entire internet, and my eyes can no longer stand the virtual tour. But all of a sudden, my mind provides the remedy. The panacea. The time tested. The daydreaming. I decided to ride into a sleepless night on a magic carpet of fantasy. It is a strange blend of the virtual world’s past and present, jumbled by the speed of the internet and the warmth of enduring memories.

I am back at my college as a freshman. Young and dashing, with the long hair that was characteristic of the hippie era. Bell-bottom denim jeans. Beats around my neck. Leather biker jacket and African inyl heishi bracelet on my left wrist. High-heeled cowboy shoes and a hippie hat. Bandanna around my neck and a tie-dye tee shirt. Handmade hippie rope-belt. Walkman cassette player tugging on my torso and headphones on my ears. Led Zeppelin climbing the ‘Stairway to Heaven.’ Hanging with the deadhead crowd, searching for myself and my mission on earth? Staying cool, yet yielding to peer pressure and following all the latest trends.

In my dreams, I am young again. I have multiple personas, and I can choose from any of them whenever I want. Life may not be so much about growing—any more than it is about becoming who you want to be while cherishing your past and nurturing your future—but more importantly, accepting your present.

Things are a bit confusing when you are at that age, and we tend to believe in what people say without questioning it much. Sincerity, truthfulness, mischief, optimism, zeal, enthusiasm, and fearlessness are just a few of the character traits that one carries through one's youth. As we continue to mature, however, a web of corruption starts to creep in. The more cunning we become, the more seasoned we are. That’s the one curse of growing up. They say he/she is ‘street smart’ now. But the irony is that the affairs of the world are currently in the hands of ‘street smart’ people.

How long can daydreams last? How long can we be taken in by illusions? Is our life one long daydream? Is it all an illusion? Are we living virtually? Why do we miss the past? Is death a wake-up call? Are we going to wake up to a different life once we are done with the present life span? When reality pops up, it diminishes the dream. But still, it was a great glimpse into the past. Reliving the past in dreams shows we all hanker for some nostalgia, and when we begin to miss the past it means we have reached old age. But never forget the child beaming with excitement, the one who is curious about what’s going to happen next. We become so numb to everything, but try having a go at doing it all again—with the wisdom of all your experience and know-how—and you’ll be amazed at what you missed the first time around.

“For ages you have come and gone

courting this delusion.

For ages you have run from the pain

and forfeited the ecstasy.

So come, return to the root of the root

of your own soul.

Although you appear in earthly form

Your essence is pure Consciousness.

You are the fearless guardian

of Divine Light.

So come, return to the root of the root

of your own soul.

When you lose all sense of self

the bonds of a thousand chains will vanish.

Lose yourself completely,

Return to the root of the root

of your own soul.

You descended from Adam, by the pure Word of God,

but you turned your sight

to the empty show of this world.

Alas, how can you be satisfied with so little?

So come, return to the root of the root

of your own soul.

Why are you so enchanted by this world

when a mine of gold lies within you?

Open your eyes and come ---

Return to the root of the root

of your own soul.

You were born from the rays of God's Majesty

when the stars were in their perfect place.

How long will you suffer from the blows

of a nonexistent hand?

So come, return to the root of the root

of your own soul.

You are a ruby encased in granite.

How long will you decieve Us with this outer show?

O friend, We can see the truth in your eyes!

So come, return to the root of the root

of your own soul.

After one moment with that glorious Friend

you became loving, radiant, and ecstatic.

Your eyes were sweet and full of fire.

Come, return to the root of the root

of your own soul.

Shams-e Tabriz, the King of the Tavern

has handed you an eternal cup,

And God in all His glory is pouring the wine.

So come! Drink!

Return to the root of the root

of your own soul.

Soul of all souls, life of all life - you are That.

Seen and unseen, moving and unmoving - you are That.

The road that leads to the City is endless;

Go without head and feet

and you'll already be there.

What else could you be? - you are That.”





Ahsan Jamil

Golfer, Blogger, Entrepreneur, Author, Poet, Wanderer, photographer, Rebel.



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