The Daily Post: Sweet Dreams(Are Made of This)

What is the best dream you’ve ever had? Recount it for us in all its ethereal glory. If no dreams stands out in your memory, recount your worst nightmare. Leave no frightening detail out.

I did not have any sweet dreams. One morning I was sleeping and was lazy to wake up and say my morning prayer. Suddenly I heard someone saying, “Ranu get up and say your prayer.”

I was scared I was out of my bed that instant, washed myself and  got my prayer rug ready  to pray.

………………………………… 🙂

DP Daily Prompt: Sweet Dreams( Are made of…

Sweet dreams are made of sugar and spice and everything nice. I have day dreams, which gives me great pleasure if they turn out as I want them to be.

There was a time I dreamed about living in a country other than my own. The political situation,the constant worry of living in a place with fear, was diminishing my  patriotic spirit to a point where I was having nightmares, I was looking for an opportunity to get out and live somewhere I could live in peace.

The opportunity although some might call weird I grabbed it. Now what was grand about it, I married a man who lived in North America, who  had a decent job. That meant I won’t starve, there won’t be general strikes, procession by students, or someone robbing us.

It was a beautiful city, I met a lady soon after I came. She and I became good friends,each morning we went for long walks  to get fresh air and also much needed exercise.

I watched the first snowstorm which paralyzed the city. It was not as bad as frequent strikes and turmoil in my native land.

People were friendly, my husband’s boss was a delightful gentleman. When he heard I intended to learn driving he very gently told me not to practice on his street.

There were a lot of new places to see and enjoy. I relished living in a country other than my own.

A year later we moved to a different province,my husband got a job in a small town of ten thousand people. I was lucky I was hired to teach in a local elementary school.

It was not all rosy, a colleague of mine was jealous when she found out my salary was higher than hers. She was never nice to me. I carried out my duties the best way I knew. The kids were excited to have me as a teacher. I had long hair, I wore a sari to school, I was different. The other children had  Mrs Hill, Mrs. Fogarty, Mrs. Bluebell and so on.

I was Mrs. Nasheman, they had a bit of trouble pronouncing it , the unique name made them happy. If you ever teach kids you’ll find out how unique they themselves are.

My dream is fulfilled I am so happy!

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