The Door

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The Door

I saw it last night in my dreams once again. The Door. Not ornate, not grand, no carving on it like the doors of my childhood. Just a plain, old, scratched piece of wood but I recognised it, for I had seen it before in other dreams. Sometimes it was just there, just barely in my sight, part of the scenery. Other times, it was shut, mockingly reminding me that there were places I just could not go.

But last night, it was open. Not ajar, just slightly open, and there was something about the pale light gently streaming through the opening, that compelled my feet to just keep walking …

I wasn’t looking for an escape … the dream was a good one, I think. I was feeling at ease, ambling through what seemed like a fragrant garden filled with tall, beautiful creepers. Like Alice in wonderland, I decided to go down the rabbit hole, with no rabbit to chase, just the gentle, pale beam of light, peeking through the open door.

I shouldn’t have. I know, you are saying “Girl, I could have told you so”.

The beauty on the other side exploded onto my senses with the brilliance of a million colours. The colours surrounded me and my eyes filled up and overflowed. My heart was heavy with tears and full of joy all at once. I wanted to shout with glee and cry at the same time As the force subsided, the power did not. Something that felt like… longing … replaced it. A longing to take that beautiful palette into my arms and take it home with me. It teased my brain, tickled my curiosity and reached inside my heart and made it its own.

It was clear from the first glimpse that this was the universe playing a game with me. I could never belong here, it wasn’t mine to own or keep. This, whatever this was, would never be anything beyond a tune I could not hum. Yes, Ghalib’s words felt so true here even though we were kind of talking about a magical painting in the sky. Or were we ?

So I sat and drank it all in until it started to hurt. You need to either drown or leave, the voice in my head said. I wasn’t ready to leave but I wasn’t ready to drown either.

For the next month, I went back every day for more. Every day it hurt just a little bit more. It made empty promises of joys it could bring, dreams it could fulfill and senses it could light up. Try as I might I could not see what would come after I drowned in the light. What then? You know what then, that annoying voice said, Then nothing. This is not for you. It is just an illusion, magic, nothing more. You’re a muggle in this story.

So…. I shut the door today. I took one last look, I closed my eyes and tasted it, reached out my hands and touched it (can you touch a painting in the sky? ), heard the silence hammering against my ears and I walked out and shut the door behind me.

It still stands there, the door. I see it every day as I go about my day. Sometimes the memory of what lay behind is a soft a gentle feeling and makes me smile. Some days, it’s just sad, sad, sad all around.

But that door, it is firmly shut. It will stay that way. It wasn’t leading anywhere, you see. Not for me.