Story | A Journey to the Dreamland

Joy the Dream boy

This story is about Joy. Till today I have never thought of writing a story about Joy. What is there to write about him? He is not a renowned man. Rather you can say that he is kind of man who silently passes his life and love to keep himself away from the spot light.

But yes, who knows him very closely they have a slight different view. I am one of those people who have seen him from his childhood. And that is why I know something very peculiar about him which I should share with others.

Joy could hardly remember any sweet memory of his childhood. He was from a lower middle class family who used to leave in the remotest rural area. Can you imagine that Joy had first seen a bicycle at the age of 14 when he visited the nearby city with his uncle!

The place where Joy and his family used to live was covered by the mesh of several tiny rivers. The only carrier people used for their journey were country boats. Most people were poor and used to get their leavings from cultivation.

Everywhere you look there were green fields. Every season there were different looks. Rainy season was time for preparation of field and putting of seeds. Soon the fields looked like a green carpet. After a few days plants were grown a little more and start dancing with the gentle breeze. Then the plants got their fruits like a mother got their child. The farmers’ heart filled with such a pleasure which none other than them could realize.

His Childhood

Joy was born and brought up in such a romantic environment. That’s why he was a nature loving boy. He had very few friends and used to pass his time with that romantic nature, playing all day with butterfly and grasshoppers. He never got bored with them.

Joy lost his father at the age of three. He had no memory of his father. Even he had not seen his photograph. In fact people of those villages could not afford the luxury of making their own photograph. Only after the death of a person, there was a convention of calling a photographer and making the portrait of the deceased person.

But when Joy’s father died, nobody even realized that a photographer should be called. It was such a shocking event! In the midnight when he was in deep sleep in his house (some sort of a slum), a snake bit him. He was awakened with a pain and called everybody. First they thought it was caused due to some needle which might have been left by mistake in the bed. But then somebody saw the injury on the toe and noticed two small holes, which was the sign of a snake bite.

There was no hospital nearby. It would take around eight hours to reach the nearest city. And people used to believe that snake bite patient can be treated with ‘Mantras’, some sort of verse used for treatment of different diseases.

Actually the fact was all the snakes were not poisonous. And when somebody had a snake bite by a non-poisonous snake, it used to be the success of the ‘Ojhas’, the doctor who used to treat using ‘Mantras’. Otherwise it was called as the destiny of the person. And God has not given the power to anybody to change the destiny.

So Joy’s father died as it was his destiny, leaving behind Joy, a kid of three years and a young wife who was pregnant and was at an advanced stage at that time.

It was like falling of sky on Joy’s family. Nobody was there in the family to look after Joy and his mother. And there was no other option except taking the charge of the family by his grandfather (Father of Joy’s mother).

That entire story Joy had learnt when he was a little grown up. From his very childhood he used to see his widow mother like a marble statue. There were no sign of life on her face. But Joy could not understand whether he should be sorry or not. He couldn’t remember any affectionate memory of his father. He even couldn’t visualize his father’s face.

That was the childhood of Joy. He had very few things to enjoy except the nature. He could feel the joy of a new born green leaf of a plant. He could feel the mourning of the tree whose leaves had been fallen in the winter. He could understand the song of the honey bees. He could share his feeling with the butterflies and grasshoppers.

Joy had another quality, a very peculiar quality, and that is why I have decided to write something about him. Although I am not a good narrator, and still I am afraid that I won’t be able to draw the correct picture of Joy, I have taken this chance because I sincerely want that Joy should not be lost from the memory of everybody.

Joy was able to be lost in the dreamland, any time anywhere. In fact he couldn’t find a boundary between the reality and the dream! When you were talking to Joy, it was not sure that he was listening you, he might have been travelling somewhere in the dreamland.

That’s why we used to call him the Dream Boy!

(I will come back to you again with Joy if you like it.)

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vuximus 5 years ago from victoria

ironic that they named him joy when his life is so sad... i have met so many children like this in my old country... thanks for sharing.

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