Farakka is a small hamlet known more for its barrage than for any excitement; this was a normal day there. Things were about to get far more interesting—or at the very least, so dreamed little Nisha.

An inquiring schoolgirl, Nisha lived with her parents, both employed by the Central government. Their existence went on an expected path. Nisha filled her days with school, social interaction, and sometimes wondering if her future would provide adventures like those in her novels; her father pored over the magazine as if it held the keys to the universe, and her mother produced round rotis.

Following a very massive meal of aloo paratha and far too many Chhota Bheem episodes, Nisha had a strange dream one evening. Innocent as she was rushing around Farakka, her schoolbag bobbing like always, she stumbled upon a somewhat unique scene. In the main square of the village stood a tall man with a beard and turban who closely resembled the infamous terrorist, Osama bin Laden. His wife was next to him in a bright red saree rather than a black burqa, as most would think. Trying to appear like visitors, they snapped selfies with the Farakka Barrage in the distance.

Bin Laden looked at her and greeted her in the dream. He greeted Beta rather warmly in a surprisingly different way. "We've got some sightseeing to do here." The explosion is reportedly astonishing. ”

The scene shifted suddenly. The couple was now standing just outside Nisha's house, looking at the windows. Nisha was growing anxious. If they wanted to come in for chai, she got up soaked.

The next day, still shaken, she ran out of her room and raced for her parents. She screamed breathlessly, "Maa, Baba! Bin Laden is headed for Farakka, wife in tow, and they're coming to our house!"

Mid-roti flip, her mother's eyebrows went up. Bin Laden in Farakka? In what? like on a holiday.”

Nisha said, "Yes! He's a turbaned, and his wife is in a red saree." They would most likely come to see us too!

Her father, seated at the table, raised his eyes from his magazine, somewhat entertained. "What is Bin Laden seeking with Farakka? Does he want to marvel at the dam?"

Nisha's mother gently grinned and washed her hands on her apron. "Delta, dreams are only dreams." Not coming here is bin Laden. And if he does, afterward he will have much to clarify with immigration! ”

Father smiled. "He could be on a world trip right now. Ought to be retirement, perhaps? ”

Still, Nisha was unswayed. But Maa, what if he arrives? What would happen if they knocked at our door but there wasn't enough chai?
Her mother laughed, embracing Nisha in a warm hug. "No need to worry, darling. Should a terrorist and his wife ever show up, I would certainly offer additional cookies. But trust me, that is not how dreams come about."

Nisha told all of her dreams at school that same afternoon to her best buddy Pooja. Pooja showed great surprise. "Bin Laden at Farakka? With a sari wife? This could be a Bollywood movie! "

Nisha came late in the day to see the silliness of her dream. Still, she somewhat expected to run across a bearded man with a selfie stick every main square stroll.

Nisha's dreams started to be a means of entertainment among the family afterwards. Every time her father saw a visitor or someone unfamiliar in town, he would say, "Look, Nisha! Is Bin Laden arriving for tea? ".

Though Bin Laden never materialized in Farakka, Nisha's dream kept the family laughing for years—that is to say, evidencing that sometimes even the most far-off aspirations can breathe some happiness into a daily existence.

Laughter is a rare experience for many of us. It’s time to reflect on this through the following poem, which will reveal the message I want to convey.

*Funeral Blues*

Funerals bring everyone together.
Long lost in their different lives, they have come to see you.
Consigned to flames.
A slew of unfortunate events...
Ha! What a grand occasion!
So much oneness in the vacuum that surrounds existence after death...
Emptiness...I only imagine.
What could have gone wrong?
If they came together by accident at my house
Although I was near death, I felt comfortable and satisfied with my life.
Without unity, I feel at home in death, alongside myself.
I have gathered all my bits and pieces for my eternal existence, and
I am now linked with the timeless witness!

© Bikramjit Sen

Now, if you have read the aforementioned poem, you'll understand the tone of the story and why it is so important to laugh and dream of bizarre and ridiculous things. Life is very short, my dear, to hold on to grudges. Don't harbour animosity. Simply flow with the wind, and let your eternal time embrace the moments you spend here on this earth in your mortal coil.