The Keeper Of Lost Hopes And Dreams

'More than anything, the purpose of my journey was to try to understand the significance of Kailash, the most sacred mountain in the world, the protruding navel of the cosmos, a celestial snow peak that represents the ultimate destination for those who seek to release themselves from the grinding wheels of suffering and rebirth. This pure white summit and the pristine lake in the foreground are the two most powerful icons of the Himalayas.' – Excerpt from the book Becoming A Mountain by Stephen Alter

I close the book with a sigh. Some writings are so fantastic that they strike instant wanderlust in the heart.

I see the time and shake my head. It is late tonight too. Every morning I vow to go to sleep early so that I can wake up early and with a fresh mind. I guess it is difficult to go to bed when you are a bookworm and are stuck up with a really, really good book.

I look at the sleeping profiles of my daughter and my husband and smile. It never fails to melt my heart whenever I see them sleeping soundly. The chaos of the whole day seems to vanish in an instant as each one of us finds solace in the comfort of the night. 

I switch off the lights, tuck myself into a cozy blanket and close my eyes in contentment.

It is my attire that gives it away that I am dreaming. I am wearing jeans-shorts and a tank-top. This is absurd because I have never worn these my whole life.

This is not the only absurd part of my clothes. I am wearing them at a place that is surrounded by snow-clad mountains. Everywhere I turn, there is a mountain to see. I look around in wonder until my eyes settle at a point far beyond.

I gasp. I know that point. I have read about it, and have seen its image so many times that I can never not recognize it. 

I am seeing the golden tip of Mount Kailash.

I hastily run in the direction of the mountain but then something strange happens.

Like an escalator that moves downwards, the road in which I am running starts pulling me backwards. The more I try to run towards the mountain, the more I go back. Finally I stop moving. Miraculously, the road stops moving too.

‘This is really strange.” I mutter to myself.

“What is?”

I startle when I hear the voice. I turn around and see an aged man sitting on a chair beside a large tent. He is dressed in a kurta-pajama, again something that feels totally out of place in my dream.

“Who are you?” I ask blatantly.

He chuckles and points to my attire. “Aren’t you cold wearing that?”

“And that’s another question. Why am I wearing these when I have never worn such clothes in my life?”

“Your question answers itself. You are wearing such clothes because you have never worn these in your life even though you wanted to.” He says calmly.

“These were a luxury for most of the millennials back then, although there were those rare confident and brave souls who defied the ‘laws’ imposed by the ‘society’ and wore whatever they wished to.” I say. “Again, who are you?”

“The keeper of lost hopes and dreams.” He says. “I treasure the dreams and hopes of people and show them when they have lost everything and are in despair.”

“I do not know why I am seeing this dream. I am not despairing about anything.” I say a bit defensively.

He gives a sad smile. “Do you know, people can be unhappy and yet may not show despair or hopelessness? They just live out their days one after another with no thought for their past dreams or hopes for their future. This state is far more dangerous than being in despair.”

“You mean to say I am living an unhappy life?”

“Not unhappy, to be precise. But you are not living the life you have dreamt about.”

I look around, his words reminding me of something I had forgotten or tried to bury. The path to Mount Kailash is still moving backwards. The tip of the mountain tantalizes and teases me.

“Would you like to get reacquainted with your hopes and dreams?” The Keeper asks.

I hesitate. I do not wish to be reminded about everything I had planned for myself. It would lead to nothing but regret and remorse. And yet, a part of me wants to see my hopes. Just to refresh my spirits, and to feel young and full of possibilities for one more time.

I nod my head.

He smiles and gestures me to go inside the tent. With a deep sigh, I enter it.

The moment I enter, I get sucked into a vortex. Before I know it, I am standing in an office. I look around and gasp. This is the place where I used to work.

I move around, taking it all in. I see myself seated at the reception. I look so different!

I am wearing a lot of bangles that match my dress. Oh yes, how I used to love wearing matching bangles! The earrings too are trendy and dangling. I forgot that I used to buy matching earrings and bangles for every new dress I brought for myself.

The past-me is typing something. I venture closer and see.

It’s a bucket-list.

-Go on a 21-day Europe trip. (Start saving money from next month. 

-Watch a plane’s take-off and landing from the cock-pit.

-Visit the Himalayas once.

-See Mount Kailash.

-Publish a book on your 30^th birthday.

-Have your own library at home. (Set aside some amount every month for buying books).

I didn’t even know when the tears started falling.

The past-me is blissfully typing these plans with a smile on her face. She looks young and full of hope. There is no hesitation or confusion on her face.

What happened then?

“Life happened.”

I startle yet again as I find the Keeper beside me. or rather, I find myself beside the Keeper. Apparently my visit to the past is over. I am again standing in the cold region in my ridiculous shorts and tank-top with no concern for the cold weather.

I wipe my tears and nod. “Yes, life happened. And it happened so fast that I never realized when my past got left behind and how the present day caught up with me.”

“It is not too late. You can still fulfill some of the dreams.”

I chuckle harshly. “I am in my mid-forties. I didn’t publish a book on my thirtieth birthday. I have developed a phobia of heights so flying in a plane is out of question, and thereby the international tours. I have my books but I never came to build the library. I no longer set aside money for books every month because I am no longer earning. I do not care about my appearances because I do not have a social life. I am too old to trek to Mount Kailash!” I shout out the last one. Surprisingly that part hurts the most – the dream of giving up on the holy mountain.

I don’t know what it is about the mountain that beckons me, but I yearn for it like a long-lost love.

The Keeper nods sagely. “Then I will continue guarding these hopes and dreams until you are ready to catch up with them. You can always visit me in your dreams. I will be here waiting to help you get reacquainted with your hopes.”

“But I don’t just want to visit them in my dreams. I want to catch up with them in my real life.” I whimper.

The Keeper smiles and places his hand on my head. “Then you know what to do.”

Everything around me dissolves as a piercing sound cuts through.

I wake up and silence the alarm. Then I lie down again with my eyes wide open.

I just saw a dream but already it is fading away. I remember an old man. I remember seeing Mount Kailash.

What was the dream again???

With a sigh I get up from the bed. There is a lot of work to do. But first things first, there is a reminder to set in my mobile.

Check the details for Kailash Yatra 2025. I set the alarm to 10 am, when I will be finally free from all the chores of the morning.

I start my chores of the day with more enthusiasm than usual. Probably the after-effect of a dream I had had, but also because there is an itinerary to plan.