You would say, all dreams are subtle and elusive! Still there are few that are vivid in our mind’s eye as we wake up, and evoke strong images from a world that is on the other side of the horizon. I crossed that horizon and saw a fragment of that world last night- A new world…very fresh and mystical. It reminds me of Samuel Coleridge’s poem Kubla Khan where a sacred river ran through measureless caverns and many other images curl up in his dreams. In mine, neither the sun beamed, nor did the moon casts its rays. It was a grey sky, dull, deep and mystical. Cold breeze was blowing with a magical comfort, and entangled all my hair over my mouth- a ruffled me, walking barefoot in an unruffled garden. It was a weedy pathway with harsh grass, 5-7 inches long. My feet were wet. Everything was damp. Seems this place has witnessed endless rain and storm that has just stopped. I could see water drops still falling from everything- the leaves, trees and flower petals. I inched closer to the