Dream Diary Woolly Buffalo edition

There was a series of dreams. The first one was me talking to people, but no sound coming out. So I would try to talk louder and louder, till I managed to say the words. I think that I was waking up briefly during these periods, and actually talking in my sleep. It was a very unsettling feeling, trying to speak and not being able to, kind of like being breathless.
The second dream, was on the backseat of a bike, when we hit something and the bike straight up flies into the air. I remember being scared to death, like literally thinking how the fuck is this happening, and oh no I am going to die once we hit the ground. But when we hit the ground, it is without inertia, and nothing happens. The bike and the rider are fallen, and people on the road are looking confused, like wtf just happen, how did they survive.
The last dream involved being attacked by a large buffallo like domestic animal - lets call it a wooly buffallo. This thing was monsterously huuge. Like twice the height of a person. It also had long brown hair all over its body. So it is on a rampage, and about to attack me. I just curl up like a baby. It sniffs me and then also lies down. Its owners come and take it away. Then I follow the owners to see where it is going. THe owners live in this chawl like communal setting, with the main hall being below the ground. There are narrow pathways leading to different houses. The buffallo is housed in one of these stalls, and it is up a flight of stairs. I take a look at it and try to get out, but cannot exit with my heavy bag. So I go back down, and decide to eat food. Im amnesiac at this point of time, not knowing where I came from or what I am doing. I pretend to be a 20 year old, and a 17 year old befriends me. He calls me "Bombay waale Bhaiyya". He invites me to share his table, and the food is served in this large communcal setting. By the time I finish two rotis, or the first course, everyone else has finished their entire lunch, and cleaned up also. I go to the kitchen to help with the cleanup, when Mintu's mother is also doing the dishes. I ask her if there is any dal left, she says yes, but it is reserved for someone. I then tell her that I am not really 20, and that I am actually 30. She said "yeah, if you did not confess soon, I would have thrown you out. I wanted to tell Mintu that his Bombay waale bhaiyya is actually something else." Then she tells me something like "when you first smoked, you felt like leaving it all behind and coming to some faraway place and keep smoking. I was like that too, and that is what I did."
I then go out and help Mintu with some homework. We form a club, as he thinks his bag matches the colour of my bag. I dont point out to him that my bag is light brown, while his is dark brown.