Another Brick in the Wall

Last night I had a vivid, larger than life but a really strange (strange!) dream.

I’ve come to a top-notch, pretty chi-chi, super luxury resort, spread over the length & breath of an island. Everywhere I look, I see beautiful things and glamorous people. I am so chuffed about being here – after all the years work and clever thinking – I am finally at the place of my dreams. Wide-eyed and delirious with joy, it took me a while to realise that everyone at the resort looked similar. At first I couldn’t see it but then boom, it struck me. Everyone is wearing a ‘crown’- a conical contraption made of gold and shiny jewels. Some crowns are super shiny and large, others either a bit jaded or small but every guest is wearing one. That is, everyone except me. 

Hours crawl and I find myself more and more obsessed with these crowns. They seem rather fixed on everyone’s head, as if an extension of their anatomy. And what’s the point of all the designer clothes and wonderful jewels if the only thing anyone ever looks at is the horrid crown? 

But then again, my lovely curls and I are clearly an outcast. I am trying not be, but I am. I even try to wrap my unruly lock into a civilised bun, but regardless of where I go or who I approach, I am ‘invisible’. Evidently, no one wants to speak to the girl with no crown . The staff too serves me with great displeasure. Once in a while I’d catch a glimpse of longing or empathy from a guest or two – but hey, thats not what I came here for. I want to belong. 

Baffled and distraught, I find myself a glass of champagne and a quiet spot. The golden hour’s set in and the harsh light of the day is slowly making way for a pink sky. If one can ignore the tiresome crown, this resort, surrounded by  bluest of blue seas and white sandy beach has some of the most stunning views I’ve ever seen.

Just as I’d started to relax, I heard great excitement brewing in the distance. Its the hour of the Gong! How could I forget – this is infact the very core of the resort.  Every evening, at the this hour, the resort opens its one and only  “wealth-ness” pool in the world for precisely twelve beats of the Gong. Dipping in it is said to have a miraculous effect on one’s personal wealth.

I walk to the pool. There is still sometime before the pool opens at the first beat. I am quite amused to watch the oh, so posh crowd from lunch, now totally hustling to stand by the pool. Overhearing the conversation, I finally figure-out the mystery of the crown : the longer in the pool the bigger the crown, the sooner, the shinier. Aha. But easier said than done – to enter quickly and remain for long needs some serious cunning and muscle power. Not to mention a level of ruthless and self-focussed attitude that is shocking, even to me.

I stand at the very back, not sure if I even want to be part of this frogmarch. Isn’t it enough to just be at a beautiful resort, in my super luxe room, eating delicious food albeit alone. Surely one of these days someone else will check-in and we can be two friends without the crown?

Just then the gong beats, the pool opens, everyone rushes to jump in. Such a frenzy, such euphoria, my reflex action is to run as fast as I can, shoving away anyone who’s in my way and on the 10th beat I managed to jump! 

Two beats later I step out. I feel different – way more desirable than I have ever felt. Everyone is smiling at me. Voila! The butler walks up with a glass of champagne and shows me the way to the Wealth-ness pool lounge. Everyone is glowing here ..many of the guests greet me with an air-kiss, asking me to dinner / lunch and tea tomorrow. As I totter around the lounge, I catch a glimpse of a lady in a stunning emerald green dress. Familiar as she may be I cannot tell if I know her. I smile at her and she smiles back. I walk upto her, as she does too. Its a moment before I realise that I am staring at a mirror .. my bohemian curly hair is gone, instead sits a two-beat large crown.

I scream. It wakes me up. I gingerly reach out and touch my hair – I have never loved this fractious lot more. To hell with the damn crown and being another brick in the wall.

Picture Credit : Dream Like Photos by Kylie Sparre / Found on CultureMorph. No infringement intended.

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Chanda Chaudhary

Aesthete. Storyteller. Wanderer. Chanda is a lover of design, craftsmanship and individualistic style. She’s best known for hosting long champagne lunches filled with stories and tales of adventure, living life on her own terms and making the ordinary, extraordinary. She lives and works in Goa, India.

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