I have always enjoyed watching dreams. Especially since most of the time, I realize that I am in a dream and all my acts won’t result in anything which will cause any impact on anybody. Dreams have been an excellent medium for me to analyze myself, my acts and I normally let the dreams proceed at its own pace.
During my last Kerala vacations, I was taken with me two Che Guevera books , one was Motorcycle Diaries which he had written before becoming that hardcore left ideologue and another was the Bolivian Diaries which is based on the diary maintained by CG during his last days in Bolivia, before he was hunted down by the Bolivian army and killed. In this diary , he maintained a daily log of the events , his interpretation of them , the mistakes he made while dealing with his group of fighters as well as other tit-bits. He also made a mention of the various difficulties like lack of food, injuries , flooding etc which the group faced while moving across the Bolivian landscape along with the frequent encounters with the Bolivian army. All in all it was a very moving book and probably I got immersed into it too much.
So one fine day, while I was sleeping with the book lying by my side, I became part of that group, sitting in a clearing inside the jungle with few guns, covered in dust and dressed in army fatigues. Realizing the situation, my first impulse was to check my leg. I got up and moved my right leg. It felt good. No creaking sound came from knee. No instability when I put my weight on it. I recalled the part from Mitch Albom’s–Five People you meet in Heaven where the prime character check out his injured leg when he goes to meet the first person in heaven. I looked around and realized there was nobody resembling Che . Instead the group consisted of all my acquaintances whom I had presumed as hardcore ideologues. I was a bit surprised since I knew not all were on the same side of the fence. But felt good that all of us were fighting for something which was common. So I settled myself into the group which was having an animated discussion on some pointless issue. Some fellow was bringing in the food. From the novel , I knew that the group was in shortfall of the food so I was not surprised to see a liquidy fare as food.
As the group was consuming food, we heard sound of gunfire coming from somewhere closeby. One fellow came running and said ( in hindi) that army is coming and we have to plan something. I was expecting some plans for a fight but was shocked when somebody said a chopper will be landing some distance from where we are and if we hurry up we will reach it in time and avoid the soldiers and the army and save our lives. As I looked with shock at the fellow who made this suggestion, the rest of the group agreed. I looked at disgust at the group wondering how wrong I had been in coming for a fight with a group of people whose only priority became saving’s once life when faced with bullets and all professed ideologies and preachings went for naught . As the bad taste flooded my mouth, I found myself also urging the group to run towards the place where the chopper was supposed to land telling them how saving once life is more important.
Now this was just too much for me to bear, I got up with a start from the sleep. It was still dark. I sat on the bed contemplating, how it is futile to expect others to stand for their beliefs when I was also among the first ones to run when faced with bullets, was more worried about saving my life rather than sacrificing myself for the ideology in which I thought I believed. As the thought of not being a great man who is ready to give up life for a cause pervaded my mind , I started looking for excuses to support my running away. I knew, all the justifications that I can think off can do nothing to redeem myself.
