Dreams

By Hussain Kachwala

I've wondered for a while now what dreams actually are. 

Amalgamations of subconscious thoughts perhaps? Visions of the future? I'd  even take a gamble on them being portals into different dimensions, perhaps  even universes. 

I used to plan my days around my dreams when I was younger, more often than  not those visions used to turn into reality. As I grew up though, I dismissed them  as humans being predictable; giving credit to the Cynic for that answer. 

Lately I can't help but think we were both wrong, and they truly are much more  ethereal than I gave them credit for. 

I've learnt to channel these parallel worlds, sacrificing parts of my sanity each  time, just to see a glimpse of reality that is larger, less cold, less.....real. 

I have flown in these worlds, as I have plummeted to my doom. I have seen  myself with power unimaginable by the human mind, as have I seen weakness,  pathos personified. 

Of all these worlds I have visited, I have yet to notice one where she sparked an  appearance, and I was right there, happy. 

An infinite impossibility; These are the cards I have been dealt with. 

I sit here and wonder, not in anger, or melancholy, but in curiosity. Why would  fate do such a thing? 

Create a being, who never leaves your mind, only to leave you just out of grasp.

Like two stars, inching ever so close, but dying out before they meet. Does fate take pleasure in mortal suffering?

By Hussain Kachwala