I’d like to think I have a good reputation, by it I don’t mean I’m an awesome writer. It means I’m easy to get along. I do not recall writing anything so far that will make one cringe.
I have translated a fair number of Tagore’s poems and songs. I love doing it. I’ve been asked by friends to doit. His poems or songs have nothing objectionable. I happen to be lucky. My native language is Bengali, same as the poet’s. Some of his writings do get lost in translation. It is a case with any translation. Still it helps to understand his poetry and the lyrics of his songs . Sometimes it lacks the deeper meaning, but I try my best.
I’ve written some stories about myself. My blogger friends and my other friends like what they read. At least this is what they say. I feel happy knowing it.
1848 Daguerreotype of Edgar Allan Poe at 39, a year before his death (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
I think what can I write for NaBloPo Mo daily. I must admit nothing concrete comes to mind. So I did the obvious,I asked my daughter, she gave me some suggestion. I have momentarily shelved it. Last night after the discussion I went to bed.
I had a disturbing dream. I could not figure out why I would have such a dream. I read Freud’s theory of dreams. He calls dreams those poems we tell ourselves at night in order to experience our unconscious wishes.
Many literary minds are obsessed with dreams.Samuel Coleridge wanted to write a book about dreams.Edgar Allan Poe knew dreams fed his literature,he pushed himself to dream “dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before”.
Matt Wilson thinks dreams sort through memories which to retain which to lose.
Hartmann focuses on emotional learning that happens in dreams.He says dreaming puts our difficult emotions into pictures.
Others argue dreams have no meaning at all.They are random firings of a brain that doesn’t happen to be conscious at that time.
I read the views of all these people,I am not satisfied. I am thinking there must be a reason why I had that disturbing dream!