The dream from the Himalayas that became a book

I sat bolt upright. Blackness, nothing but an impenetrable darkness surrounded me.

Somewhere close a deep crack filled the icy air, as the once-great glacier of Namik carved her way downwards from the hunchbacked peaks of the Indian Himalayas above.

My dream flickered in front of me, replaying like a movie on the black canvas of the night. I scrambled for my pencil and paper and began to scribble under the beam of my head torch, hoping not to wake Gauri, my great friend and guide.

A young boy cowered under a dark djinn. His dreams, sparkling like strands of blue light floated in front of him. They had been ripped from him and were dangling from the calloused claws of the hideous, hooded spirit that stood over him.

Outside our tent, Namik glacier groaned, inside I had been sucked into a different world.

The boy cowered, powerless to stop the evil djinn as it dropped his dreams into a jar and roared ‘Dream no more boy. The world no longer needs your foolish dreams. It is time for you to grow up and be like everyone else.’ The djinn looked deep into the boy’s eyes. Its burning hatred was the last thing the young boy saw before the djinn dissolved back into the darkness.

As the sun rose across the old city of Xhadur, the boy desperately searched the dusty streets for the shadow-like creature and his dreams. The djinn though was nowhere to be found, and inside the boy, a dark weight took root, strangling his child-like spirit.

I scribbled furiously, trying to capture the textures and feelings as the boy felt the dark mist of fear growing inside him. A mist that was implanted by the djinn and that will take over his mind when the next full moon rises.

Somewhere in the depths of his pain, the young boy found hope, and in the hope, he found courage. The courage to leave the world he knew, and his family that he loved, and step into the unknown, step out with no certainty of return, in search of the dark spirit and his dreams.

Tiredness soon gripped me again and I drifted off to sleep, unaware of the journey that I had just stepped out on. I was not an author. I was barely a writer, other than my daily scribbles in my journal. Somehow, the act of writing down the dream that night sparked something to life. And now, twenty years on I have written almost every morning, stepping through portals into the lands of Xhadur, Duzkah and Umlak following Tarun’s epic journey in search of his stolen dreams.

Today that dream from the Himalayas has become a book, and more than that it is becoming a series. Writing has become a daily dream for me and I hope that, as we get close to publishing, this story helps you, or someone that you love, to water the seeds of a dream that lives inside of you. Because if I can become an author, I know that you can achieve your dreams. I’ll share everything that I can in this blog to help you water the seeds of your dreams and bring them to life. We all feel the weight and the dark mists of fear, but like Tarun, we can loosen its grip through courage, hope and walking forward each day, even if we are not exactly sure where the path is leading.

Let’s live our dreams together. I am here for you if you need any support.

Here is a little trailer of The Jar of Dreams, book one in the Dream Chronicles. It features the beautiful illustrations of Kalyani Ganapathy and was created with the help of my good friend Jamie Humphris from Mountain High Media.