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About Sumita

Sumita considers herself as a writer for all reasons. She has written most of her adult life starting with a book of stories at the age of eleven. After an unsuccessful attempt to get into journalism school Sumita fell head first, into advertising copywriting and that started an affair of a lifetime (at the risk of sounding a tad cheesy). Today Sumita is a not so lean and mean writing machine displaying capabilities in many styles. Check out the offerings on display and do get back to her with your feedback and requests for writing work - sumita@sumitachakrabarty.com

In the realm of the sub-conscious

Lately I’ve found that I dream in two layers. The first one is a soft and fluffy layer which I refer to as the ultra conscious. Very much in the vein of ultra soft and ultra comfortable …you get the drift. And then there’s the second layer which is a little coy about revealing itself initially and when it does ..oh boy, it just flies out of some subterranean¬† consciousness where it had probably festered for some time till it was shoved out kicking and screaming. Truly the sub-conscious is one big, messed up space where anger and humiliation meet up with unhappiness and disappointments.

Just the other day I had barely fallen asleep and I was surprised to see Ms Hyacinth appear in the top, fluffy layer of my dream. I remember being surprised because she was the teacher I had hated most in primary school. She was mean,¬†vicious and ugly and till date I think it is one of life’s greatest mysteries why someone would’ve named her Hyacinth. True to her nature she tore through the soft layer and landed in the sub-conscious where it took fat Mrs Proctor and the anemic looking Ms Sybil a lot of effort to drag her out. Thankfully she won’t be poking holes in my dreams anymore.

The most irritating ones are those where the second layer interrupts when I’ve just started sinking into the soft, comfortable layer. I hate those dreams. They leave me confused and irritated and I hate being either.¬† Lions marching up to me to deliver messages suddenly appearing along side a quiet walk in the hills. Seriously, is there no end to my dreams trying to upend my realities?

But there is a silver lining to all this. It is when my second layer is so full of the colours of happiness that it seeps into the comfy upper layer and then they both bundle me in a warm cocoon of contentment with the ends all neatly tied up. Sheer bliss does exist. As do Peter Pan and Santa Claus!

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