A dream, a market, and the moment I lost Maa
The market was inside a glass high rise that seemed to touch the clouds.
Dreams are strange. I do not know whether it was a mall or a market. It reminded me of old Gariahat, though it looked nothing like it. I remember shops, bright lights and people everywhere. Most of all, I remember that Maa was with me.
Maa and I had gone there together.
The journey felt effortless. A car, perhaps a rickshaw, perhaps something in between, seemed to carry us straight to the entrance. No traffic, no wrong turns, no waiting. We simply arrived.
We spent what felt like hours wandering through the place. Maa moved slowly, pausing wherever something caught her eye. I moved faster, distracted by everything else. Yet somehow, we stayed together.
Then it was time to return.
I remember sitting in the vehicle. I was tired. At some point, I fell asleep. When I opened my eyes, things looked different. The city outside had changed. The market was gone. The high rise had faded into the distance.
And then it struck me. Where is Maa?
I looked beside me. The seat was empty. A chill ran through me.
“Where is my mother?” I asked the driver.
He glanced at me through the mirror as if nothing was wrong.
“You left her there?”
The words didn’t make sense. How could anyone leave a mother behind? How could a mother become forgettable?
Anger rose inside me, not just because she was missing, but because she should never have been.
The driver said nothing. He did not turn back. He kept driving. The roads began to shift. Familiar buildings dissolved into unfamiliar ones. The city no longer felt like mine. Then he stopped and left me somewhere I did not recognise. I stood alone.
No Maa.
No market.
No direction.
Only the urgency to find my way back. After what felt like a long time, another car appeared. A different driver. A different journey. I got in and told him where I needed to go.
Back. Back to the high rise. Back to the market. Back to where I had left something precious behind.
The car moved. For the first time since waking, I felt hope return. City lights rushed past the window. Every turn felt like it was pulling me closer.
I imagined Maa waiting, as mothers do. Not angry. Not afraid. Just waiting.
The building finally appeared on the horizon. And just as I felt I would reach her, the dream ended.
I woke up. The room was silent. Yet for a few moments, the feeling stayed. Not fear of being lost. But the fear of realising too late that someone who has always been there is suddenly no longer beside you.
