It was the quiet hours of the night, and Amritanshu watches the sea of clouds passing below, with ghostly tendrils clinging to the mountain slopes, concealing valleys and ancient forests. Towards the west, the moonlight has spilled on the jagged edges of mountains jutting out of the clouds. Their peaks seemed to bear the weight of whispers of sages, echoes of lovers and the footprints of Gods.
Out in the east is a dam, forming a lake that looks like the coiled body of a mighty serpent. High above the dark clouds, the air is hushed. Anshu cannot hear the roar of the water rushing through the valley below, and he is enveloped in a serene quietude.
A narrow bridge spans a gorge downstream, connecting two worlds with delicate threads of steel. Cars crawl across it, with headlights winking like fireflies. Peppering the ground far below are islands of light, and Anshu looks skywards to remind himself of what the humans were imitating, and the constellations in turn, regarded him.
Orion brandished his celestial sword, while Cassiopeia reclined like a queen. The Milky Way stretched across the heavens, a river of stardust connecting worlds beyond the dreams of humans. Anshu took a deep breath, and dived beneath the clouds. The edges of the magic carpet fluttered only slightly as the magic carpet slowed down and descended towards the city.
On his cuff are a number of stickers. Each look unremarkable and black. There are stars, diamonds, squares, birds and flowers, but most of them are round. With deft fingers, Anshu carefully picks out a circular one, and applies it to the center of his forehead. The city beneath him bursts out in colour, as the dreams of the inhabitants are revealed.
The landscape below pulses with life, a kaleidoscope of emotions, memories and desires. In one apartment, an old man dreams of reuniting with his lost love. In another, a child envisions soaring through the sky on wings of fire. In yet another, a frustrated woman with a mystified expression keeps turning a light switch on and off, but the light stubbornly remains on. Anshu chuckles softly.
With a silent command, Anshu soars into the skies again. His destination is much futher away from the city, which has helped him orient himself. He follows a highway, an asphalt ribbon stretching into the horizon. As he leaves the city behind, he can hear a discordant symphony fading, made up of hopes and fears, aspirations and regrets.
For a moment, Anshu feels the weight of the combined longing of a city, and it hums through his very being. Anshu was familiar with many tricks of the trade, but was always guided by the knowledge of how fleeting and fragile dreams were. Anshu knew he had to act fast, or else a tremendous prize would be lost forever.
The highway turned west, snaked through the mountains, and approached the Arabian Sea. The scent of secrets wafted up through the air, along with that of salt. Coconut palms swayed like dancing giants, their fronds whispering a lullaby to restless children. Fishing boats bobbed on the oceans, with lanterns flickering, a constellation of hopes cast on the ocean.
Anshu descended once again over the beaches, where the tides had washed away the footprints, but fragmented memories clung to the sand. The laughter of children stomping through sandcastles, the tears of parting lovers, and the blessings of ancestors who were not entirely human.
Anshu approached a small village. Here the dreams were simpler, a bountiful catch, a lover's embrace, a safe return. A young girl dreams of becoming a sailor, her eyes fixed on the distant horizon. But Anshu was here for someone else. Someone who was dreaming of diving into the icy depths in search of a rumour, an impossible one at that.
Anshu glided silently over the thatched rooftops. Anshu could sense the dreams with all of his senses, the sticker made sure of that. He could taste them, with flavours ranging from bittersweet memories to spicy fantasies. Landing near a pile of firewood, Anshu hopped off his magic carpet and briefly considered an old, rusty moped. Anshu closed his eyes, extending his senses beyond the veil of reality, and saw it, a glowing beacon of light.
In a small, simple room, sleeping on an ancient stone bed with a straw mat, was a pearl diver. It was surprising what the mind of this humble man had conjured. He was dreaming of a pearl the size of a King's hand, gleaming with moonlight, it's surface rippling with opalescent blues, pinks and greens. And Anshu smiled, because he was a dream thief, and he was about to steal this magnificent jewel.
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