I woke up in a dream.

But that dream is not something we, humans talk like. It was different. It was a dream which consists of the city of the dream world. It was a dream where a creator, who made my girlfriend and their entire type, lives and he's going to spare me my life.

The first question as soon as I asked after I came into consciousness was that about that old man in the wheelchair.

'He's the creator's great-grandson,' Vasishtha said.

I was shell shocked. If he is the creator's great-grandson, the creator himself must be some hundreds of years old.

'How old is your creator anyway?' I asked

'Turning seven hundred and twenty-two this year,' Vasishtha said, with a calculated face.

I was not disappointed. He met my imagination quite correctly.

We were in a house in a barren street and the dream was exactly like the real human world. It had houses, streets, shops and people working in them, trees and flowers, laughs and arguments from the houses. It was so real and I was still thinking about believing it.

'We call it as Sentierra,' Vasishtha said.

There was a fuse of pride and happiness in his voice.

'It was even better when I last visited it,' his father murmured.

'Dad, it was a different time and a different creator.'

'What do you mean by a different creator?' I asked.

A doubt never stays calm and hidden in my mind. If it ever stays like that, I feel like my brain was rotting.

They looked at each other and chuckled.

'Let's walk and talk,' Vasishtha proposed.

I obliged immediately. We hit the street and there was broad daylight and peacefully air was roaming around the place.

'Wait!' I jumped, 'it was night when we came here.'

'In the creator's dream, it would be the exact opposite of your world's weather and climate and timing.'

'You mean if it is night outside, you go to work in the morning here. If it rains outside, you would be lying on a beach here on a hot summer afternoon.'

'You got it right?' Vasishtha patted on my shoulder.

But the uncle was silent. He was with us physically not psychologically. His daughter might be disturbing his thoughts.

'Uncle, you said you came here once,' I deliberately involved him in the conversation.

He looked at me for some long minutes, sighed heavily, and said, 'I lived some considerable time here. This city is not our only city. We have six more. But we don't live here. We live along with you in your world.'

'You have six more inside cities in six different heads in six different cities of outside,' I said.

He giggled at my sarcasm. 'Yes, six more heads, precisely.'

'That's gross. I heard many fantasies, but nothing turned my stomach like this.'

'Except this is real,' Vasishtha added.

'Very real,' I made a face.

'You stopped saying something,' I said to the uncle.

He nodded and continued, 'It's a simple process, Siddarth. Our women could not give birth to babies. Their bodies are not made for that.'

'What do you mean?' I exclaimed, 'your ladies can't get pregnant. I think we, humans, beat you there. Two points for you and one for us.'

'You are so childish,' Vasishtha whined.

I gave a livid look at Vasishtha and turned to the uncle again.

'Our women will do get pregnant but their bodies support the babies' development only up to the Embryo stage. After that, they may kill it if they try to develop it on their own.'

'I understood everything now.' I cheered.

'What is it?' he chuckled and said, 'what have you assumed this time?'

'I didn't assume. I exactly caught the process. After baby gets to the embryo stage you go to the creator and he creates the baby thereafter.'

'You are smarter than you look,' Vasishtha said. He was continuously roasting me. But I was not in a mood to react. I was so interested in their lives and worlds.

'If you don't live in these cities, what's their real purpose anyway?'

'The day when we get to know that our lady is pregnant, we pack our bags and come here. And until the creator gives us the baby, we live here.'

'You use this as pregnant time colonizing city?'

'Very much,' he replied, 'but not every one of us comes to the same city. There were six cities, as I said, and our people go to the one which is nearer to them. The creator's power works in every city.'

'You mean if you have a person in New York, and his head had another weird city in it, then people in those continents go there. You people thought like us in this.' I said.

'Of Course, we learned it from you. Searching a new land, habituating it, and giving a name for it and congregating it in your world map at last. You people are smart and we used your ideas. No shame in that.'

I giggled.

'I came here when my wife was pregnant,' he resumed, but his voice was low and weak.

Vasishtha's face had changed colors; it took the color of pain.

'We were here for nine months. Those were the happiest days of our life. She had Vedika and Vasishtha at once. We are so rejoiced watching our twin babies.'

'What happened to your wife, uncle?' I dared to ask a sensitive question.

'She was gone.' He hissed.

'But you people are immortal.'

'No, we die. It's not actually death, we fade out.' Vasishtha said.

His voice was not active either. He sounded like the pain was spilling out of his words.

'I don't understand.'

'One day in our life, if we are so unlucky, we lose our control. We lose our command over our minds. Someone must be there to help us, to aid us to control ourselves.'

'But your mother didn't have anyone when she was fading out.' I said and they both remained in the silence of pain. I took it as a yes.

I felt guilty for raising the topic. They turned so gloomy and dull. I wish I had Vedika with me; she would switch the topic without people's prior notice.

'We are here,' Vasishtha announced.

It must be the creator's place. I lifted my head and found a huge pyramid standing upside down. Its tip was facing the land and it was balancing the entire structure. I didn't lift my head ever since I came into the city. I was captivated and stared at the structure with my mouth wide open. It was over magnificent.

'Is this where your creator lives, in a colossus pyramid?'

'An inverse pyramid, sorry.' I added.

The tip was at least a concatenation of 30 pillars. But still, it was astonishment for me about how the gigantic structure was balanced on it. The white pyramid on the upside was up to the clouds. Its wide-ranging would be of 20 normal streets. We could almost keep a small town inside the pyramid.

'Welcome to the 'Reverie'. Eleonara will be happy to see you,' he said, walking near it.

'You said two new names now,' I complained.

'We call this as 'Reverie' which means a place of trance.'

'I agree with your trance version,' I gasped, 'next one please.'

'Eleonara: she is our creator. She is so funny and I am sure you will love her.'

'Your creator is a 'she'?' I glanced at his father, who was standing quiet and passive.

'Dad,' Vasishtha exclaimed, 'you didn't say him that our creator is a 'he'.'

'The creator at my times is my favorite to date.' He shrugged.

'But he's not our creator now,' he wailed.

'Don't worry boy. Eleonara is his best friend, that's why he would be offended if anyone belittles her,' uncle whispered in my ear.

'Wait, you calling your creator with a name,' I made a funny face.

'We are not scared of our creator, she's not a god.' Vasishtha insisted.

'She is a part of us.' Uncle said.

Vasishtha's face was lit like a lamp hearing his dad talking fine about her. I could guess how close he was to this 'Eleonara'.

'She was from Italy, isn't she?' I asked.

Both of them nodded.

'Is anyone talking about me?' I heard a voice at the entrance.

The entrance was camouflaged in the pyramid. Anyone new either would assume that structure was entrance less or else they would end up scratching the wall.

At the entrance was a young girl; short, thin, pretty, and seemed like she was in her early twenties. There was a pizza slice in her hand, bulky headphones around her neck, and her voice was soothing. She was just wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt over it. She was the beautiful girl I had seen after Vedika. Her crystal blue eyes, skinny cheeks, golden-brown hair, and her wide, smooth forehead almost made a strong brand on me.

There was a certain glow on her; something that separates her from the other girls. After all, she was a freaking creator.

But she was not the seven hundred years old, wrinkled, bizarre, petrifying, and silent creator I imagined like. If she's not a god, then she must at least be some angel from heaven.

*

I tried so good to keep my creator interesting. She's my favorite till now. I hope you feel the same.

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