Real Dreams...?

Sometimes dreams can get so wild. I had one a while where some potential customers came to me looking to buy houses. I was dealing with them and one thing that struck out the most to me was the son in the family who had a strange request. He said to not sell any house to the family which has the number. So in effect he was saying to not sell any house which is like 9, 19, 29, 191 and so on. When I shared my dream with the rest of family, they thought it was very weird. All I could say was that it was like a real life incident being played out right in front of my eyes. But why number 9? Does that signify anything? I still don’t have an answer.

Last night, I had yet another dream that was too real for me. An uncle, who is my father’s cousin, has passed away. He leaves behind his wife, two daughters (one is married, other is final year of university) and a son, who is looking for a job. So clear was the dream that I even remember what shoes and clothes I was wearing (black pants, white shirt, tie and my new polished black shoes), what the sky was like (misty blue), what the daughter was saying to me (“I am too shocked to tell you what I feel right now”) to what the wife was doing in the kitchen (arranging the flowers people bought in various vases- in shock I presumed). I remember walking into their house, being greeted by the son whose eyes had turned bloodshot red from the grief. A large number of people had gathered in the drawing room. While there were a lot of people, at times I somehow felt as if I was flying above them. Men were weeping at the loss of my uncle, small children were running around excited at the chance to play with their friends on weekday, women pretending to grieve but were really gossiping on the latest scandal, and bored teenagers, texting away on their cell phones.

As I was “hovering” around the house, I bump into the daughter. Naturally she was distressed and in a slight bit of shock. I offered my condolences to her and all she did was give me a weak smile- “Mansour. I don’t know what to say.” I could tell she had been crying a lot. She was wearing a light blue, flowery shalwar kameez with the scarf on her head. I moved on a bit and saw the wife in the kitchen. She was standing at the sink, filling the vase with water. I inquired and she commented on how delicate the flowers were. Is she in shock, I wondered. She refused to budge and just gave me a blank stare as I moved out of the house.

I don’t know what to make of this dream. It was too real for me to even dismiss it. I sometimes freak out because I know these people and its scary to witness a funeral where I am dealing with the family who is grieving the death of their father and husband.

M