A macabre dream

Usually, I rarely talk about dreams I had. I remember them on occasion – like last night I dreamt that I was not using an intrinsic for creating a vector of GUIDs or the other day when I dreamt that I was a football or the other other day when I dreamt that Brazil had separated from South America due to some rocking in the plates down below or the other other other day when I dreamt that I was a decorated super-hero and could get pani-puri to eat whenever I wanted. The point I’m making is that it’s rare that I talk about dreams and even rarer that I blog about them.

However, some unknown force compels me to post something over here. And since my earlier post titled “Presentability and the Geek” died a premature death when I realized it had no legs to stand on I contemplated a post with very long non-sensical sentences that ramble on and on with no punctuation to add to the general confusion amongst the masses. So now, here goes, a post on this very macabre dream I had a while back. Since this is a dream, the laws of physics do not apply.

Babloo was a healthy little baby, all of 2 years and ten months. Babloo was born, on a stormy night, deep in the jungles of Africa. His parents, who named him Babloo (a decision they instantly regretted) gave him up to the wild when they realized that they could no longer feed him or keep him safe. His parents weren’t evil, they just made one of those gutsy calls. So Babloo grew in the jungle, well versed in all its ways.

Gargle Gargle was a gorilla who’d never had anything he wanted. When he was young he’d wanted to climb the trees and swing from vine to vine but his Mother said it’s too dangerous. He wanted to travel west and south to where he heard there was a football world cup going on but his Mother wouldn’t let him. This made Gargle Gargle very disgruntled and unhappy with his lot in life.

Lieutenant Major Moo Moo Soo was a hardened battle veteran. She was decorated, a veteran of many sorties and loved to keep her engines squeaky clean. Her MIG21, an old old plane, much like her had also seen many battles. It was unsurprising that when the commandant wanted a quick recon of tsaminaminaheyheywakawakawayway he then picked her.

Let me paint a picture of tsaminaminaheyheywakawakawayway for you. It is a gorgeous meadow, sprawling and rolling like all meadows should. Be speckled with bushes of daffodils adding yellow to the green and spotted with cows and deer and other animals of the grazing kind there was no other meadow like it in all of Africa. It is unique because in the center of the meadow flows a river of molten lava. This river which has never beben named has carved a chasm a hundred feet wide and a million feet deep.

One fine morning, Gargle Gargle felt rebellious. He decided to head towards tsaminaminaheyheywakawakawayway.

Coincidentally, that was the day Babloo went to see tsaminaminaheyheywakawakawayway for the first time. He’d heard so much about it.

At noon, the ATC was directing Moo Moo Soo to the runway so that she could commence her recon.

Babloo reached tsaminaminaheyheywakawakawayway and saw a giant gorilla. He hadn’t been chased around a meadow with a river of molten lava flowing through it ever. He turned towards the giant gorilla, stuck his tongue out and went tbbbhhht.

Gargle Gargle saw a little pipsqueak go tbbbhhht. Enraged he charged.

Moo Moo Soo radioed-in – “MMS-I to base, all clear”. “Echo that MMS-I”. “Wait, scratch that. I see something”. “It’s a gorilla. Chasing after a baby”. “Oh my God”.

Babloo did not think that a little tbbbhhht would enrage a gorilla so. He headed towards the ravine.

Gargle Gargle, heart thumping, adrenaline pumping charged after the baby.

Babloo, closed his eyes, took a gulp and jumped across. Gargle Gargle jumped a second after. There was a sonic boom.

And at this point I woke up. This image was seared to the inside of my eyeballs. I’ve reproduced it to the best of MS-Paint’s abilities below.

PS1: I did dream this – I can still close my eyes and picture Babloo, Gargle Gargle and Moo Moo Soo’s fighter jet. Of course, the names and the fluff around the story here are all post-dream J.

PPS: I blame the deterioriation of my English on the quantum of specifications that I read and write.

PPPS: Read a whole bunch of books – will blog soon about them