Uh oh.

Benaud calls for ban on minnows (May 29 2005)
Warne and Hughes call for Bangladesh dumping (May 31 2005)
...
Bangladesh shock Australia (Jun 18 2005)

Lucid ?

I had a dream last night.

There was some kind of party at our new apartment. Too many people. Slug desis, Delhi-ki junta, Burnpur-er kaku-kakimara. My roomie was sleeping with two pillows on his head to keep out the noise. People were sitting on the floor, eating out of green leaves. Too many people. I remember seeing the usual people running around worried about things. Nobody was drinking. There was a lot of noise, though.

I was following Dimma, she was running frantically, looking for somebody. I don't know for how long. Then she stopped. I saw Dadu sitting somewhere ahead, wet with perspiration, desperate look on his face. His face lit up when he saw Dimma. They said something about looking for each other for an hour, and that it was getting late. They decided to go without eating.

I think Baba and Ma were fighting again. Ma was crying a bit.

I don't remember much else. Except the last part.

I woke up from my dream. I was so tired, I could not move. I tried to get up. I could not. I tried turning on my side, I thought I managed that, but I couldn't get up. I could see my new room, and I could tell that I was turning because the view of the room shifted as I turned. Yet I tried and tried for minutes without being able to get up. I was feeling so heavy. The familiar feel of my muscles stretching, all parts moving as they should to lead up to my getting up, everything was there - yet I couldn't finish the act - I tried and tried - no use - I was *stuck* to the bed, forever...



Then I woke up from my dream a second time. I tried to get up, and could.

Earth

"I cannot believe that . . . this man could sleep in the same bedroom (with a child) for 365 straight days and not do something more than just watch television and eat popcorn.
"I mean, that doesn't make sense to me." - Juror, MJ trial (male, 62)

!?

An incomplete illusion of inertia

It's a bright day and the sun feels hot on the skin. Maybe it felt hotter yesterday, at the beach, lying down on K's "hoodie", as she likes to call it. But there was a cool breeze then, every second or two, brushing the sands off my face, soothing the births of baby tans on my cheeks. I looked like a God after my shower this morning. My fiancée loves the colour of my shoulders, she says she does not like the idea of me getting a tan before I show up late summer. I wouldn't like a tan either - but the sun is hot, and it tempts.

I've been thinking of catching up on writing. It's been a lazy spring. I should have written more. I had time. A couple of weeks back, on my way back from somewhere, on the bus, looking out from the window, I had had a glimpse of a thought. I do not remember what it was - all I do remember is that I had decided to name the piece : Illusion, inertia, ... and something else. The third word, if I'd remembered it, might have helped me trace the connection between the first two. But I don't remember anything else about it now. Not even that, that had triggered the thought. Something, seemingly precious, has been lost.

What was the connection? What did I intend to write? I cannot get it out of my head. The sun is hot. Had I discovered that I'd wrapped myself in a state of inertia, and intended to break that illusion in some way? Or had I hit upon inertia as a means to end some illusion I'd discovered I was in? And what was the other, missing word? I remember it began with an "i" - I was excited about the three "i"s in the title.

There's a cool breeze now. I had almost decided to leave, and lie down in the shade for some time. The breeze, the cunning breeze, is making me stay back. I should leave, though. I would not like a tan.