A dream of a professor

The professor was sitting inside my dream and telling me his dream. He looked like a wise buffalo, but he assured me he was a professor. 'I dreamt of your father,' the professor said. 'Your father was telling me that you have never worked in your life.' 

'Never worked?' I asked. 'Yes, your father was telling me that you live like a farmer. And we all know a farmer does not work.' 

Then the professor asked me if I would like to accompany him to a tribal village gathering. I said, 'Yes!' 

The professor came home with his wife. She was a spirit who was very wise. She said she liked to roam about a lot. If she had no other place to roam about, she roamed about inside her house. She did not go to the bedroom and the kitchen when she was roaming inside her house.

The professor parked his car at our house and we left for the village in my car.  The professor had forgotten to pack his medicines, so we first picked up his medicines. We drove to a Heart Care Centre, and after picking medicines for him we drove onwards to the village. 

We drove along the sea for a long time. We went over a narrow bridge.

We went up some hills and we picked up a student of the professor along the way. She spoke in Konkani, but she spoke in a sing-song way. It was difficult to say if she was having a conversation or singing a song. I listened to her speak-song . I didn't understand what she was saying but I found that if I concentrated, I could understand some of her words. My wife and I listened to the conversation in silence. We travelled for a long while inside the bubble of Konkani.

At night we stayed in a forest. In the morning we went deeper into the forest. We saw many tall trees. We eventually reached a watering hole. There were some fish in the water and many strange-leaved plants grew around it.

There was a mango tree and my wife  tried to break some mangoes. The professor helped her with a stick, but they didn't get any mangoes. On the way back, the professor complimented my driving skills. He then gave us a free lesson on the Romantic period, and the history of seeing Nature as a beautiful thing, and how we have to first alienate ourselves from Nature to appreciate it. 'For a forest dweller, a tree is not a tree; it is spirit,' the professor said. It was very complicated and very fulfilling. Something spoke to me inside the forest. 'You are living inside a womb,' it said to me. 'Really?' I asked. 'If you put a seed in the earth, doesn't it grow?' Something answered. 'It must be a womb then,' Something said. I agreed. 

My wife collected many young plants and took pictures of a butterfly. The butterfly was as big as a small bird. We saw many anthills on the way out. The professor told us an ant-hill story. We all agreed it was a good story. We met a man carrying a large mushroom. It was yellow, juicy and fresh. He let me take a picture of the mushroom. We found some tables in the jungle and I asked the professor to take pictures of the table. I saw red ants up in the tree building a nest. A man dressed in khaki came up to me and told me that it was an Acacia Auriculiformis and vanished.

In the evening we started for the tribal village gathering. On the way, we stopped at the house of the professor's student. We ate watermelons and ripe mangoes plucked from trees. The student told us about the village of her ancestors. She showed us a hill in the distance, and told us that they went to the hill once a year to repair the houses, and to live there for a week. They carried provisions for a week and cooked at the village of the ancestors. Then they came back, only to go the next year.

After the meal we went to a village temple. We cleaned the temple. The professor lay down in the temple and practiced his speech for the evening. He said he was the Chief Guest at the village gathering. We listened to his speech. It was in Konkani, but I found I could understand more of the words. We complimented the professor on his speech.

As it grew dark, we left the temple and went to the village gathering. There were hundreds of people at the gathering. The buddhvants of the village sat on either side of the professor. My wife recorded the professor's speech on a video camera. After that many children performed on the stage. We gave a prize to the children, and they announced our prize to the gathering. 

We left soon after midnight and got lost in the forest. The professor's wife expressed satisfaction at being lost.  'No journey is ever complete without being lost,' she told us. Then she told us stories about getting lost. We all agreed they were good stories. We were all happy then that we were lost. We saw many field mice along the road. Suddenly some people appeared on a motorcycle and looked at us. 'You are the guests from the gathering,' they said to us. They pointed the way out of the forest.

In the morning we started back for home. One of the professor's students met us and asked why my wife was crying at the gathering. We told him the reason, and he was satisfied. 

We drove back slowly. We stopped at an old banyan tree. It was the oldest banyan tree in the kingdom. The professor asked me if I wanted to swing from the banyan tree. I thought about it, and said, Yes. We all took turns swinging from the banyan tree. 

We met some friends and had lunch and ice cream by a river. The professor said he would like me to work with the tribal people and I said I would be happy doing that. It would be a dream come true, I told him. Send me a proposal, the professor said, and he vanished with his wife. 

I was happy it had been a dream in colour.