I've been dreaming.

I've been dreaming. Awful dreams. Monday it was my father who died in the dream and I wasn't believing anyone. Within my dream I was unbelieving his death by saying I know this time like all the times it is just a dream. It felt horribly insensitive to not believe and worse to believe. Tuesday the family was standing in Surti's balcony, around 6 floors high and looking down at someone's ashes been spread around a grass lawn. Ambassadors were parked around the green patch. Suddenly a woman dressed in a Salwar kameez ran out of the building asking for Ceaser uncle's granddaughter. (There's a background to it. In the dream it was established at some thought that they had been wishing for long for a grand daughter) So the woman was screaming asking for the girl. A splash on the ground beside her. A new born baby girl from the second floor squashed to pulp. Wednesday was spent at Aranyani's place and I didn't get any dreams there. Thursday I couldn't sleep in my dream. I tossed around in bed for hours and woke up feeling exhausted and missed class. Mommy called with news from Bombay. She said my father had suffered a mild heart attack kind of feeling a couple of days ago and Surti uncle's old mother passed away. The building and it's breaking down and rebuilding is still being discussed.