All that we see or seem, Is but a dream within a dream.........(from a poem by Edgar Allen Poe)
The face seemed familiar, and so did the lopsided half smile that transformed the rugged brown face to a pleasant picture. Yet, his name eluded me. I tried to place him in the school play ground, in the college canteen and even in the nearby shops of daily utility items that I frequent every day. But no, he did not belong anywhere, the man with the brown coat and the fingers that were adorned with a dozen rings. When my colleague introduced him as a distant cousin hailing from some unheard of town in Jammu and Kashmir, I knew immediately that I was a victim of déjà vu, or the strange feeling that in some way you have experienced already what is happening now.
Yes, it has happened to me many a times, and I know that you have gone through the same experience some day or the other. I cannot count the number of instances when I have been sitting with a select group of people whom I have never met ever before in my life, and suddenly this feeling dawns out of nowhere that I had done this some other day, in some other times. At times, even the words that come out of my mouth feel as if I am repeating them from some situation that I have already gone through.
Not only people and situations, certain material objects also seem familiar. An artist friend had an art exhibition a few weeks ago where I was an invitee. She is a reputed painter with number of her paintings being exhibited in prestigious art houses the world over. On that particular day, she had put up her recent works that included a sketch of an old lady. And suddenly, without even the slightest thought to the repercussions of my feelings in full public view, I exclaimed, “I have seen this sketch somewhere.” And honestly speaking, my intention was not to insult her chef d’oeuvre, or to say that it was a copy. But the damage was already done, and from that day on, she has had atleast three more exhibitions, but I was not invited to any of those!
Deja vu is like rewinding a tape by the Almighty to show to his subjects, à la repeating the same blockbuster time and again by the movie channels. Many researchers like Ian Stevenson believe that some cases of déjá vu might be explained on the basis of reincarnation. In the book “ A Textbook of Psychology”, the psychologist Edward B. Titchener explained déjà vu as caused by a person having a brief glimpse of an object or situation, before the brain has completed “constructing” a full conscious perception of the experience. Such a “partial perception” then results in a false sense of familiarity (courtesy: Wikipedia). But whatever the scientific or rational explanation for the phenomenon may be, it is something that makes one feel surreal. What I feel at times is like as if I know that I am here, but even then I am somehow distracted, that is the “being not there in spite of being there” feel. If it sounds too confusing, then there is no other way to express the feeling in words.
A few months back, we had taken the highway route from Delhi to Guwahati. It was a unique experience for us, kids and all, with a mountain of luggage and strange streets that led to unknown destinations. I remember that it was somewhere in the UP-Bihar border, and the smooth highway and the series of green mountains at the horizon created a picture straight out of some painter’s brush. The kids were hungry, and we had exhausted the stock of food that we had carried with us. The sides of the street were vacant and there seemed no possibility of finding any restaurant or any other eatery nearby. I was almost at my wits end, for the trip was my brainchild. But like a god sent, we saw a small eatery at some distance. It was a small place, with unbelievably clean interiors and spotless chair-backs and table cloth. Manned by a lady of formidable proportions with a man-like voice, I felt secure in the premises almost immediately. The food can be best compared to ambrosia, and the water was sparkling crystal (though it was not mineral water). And you guessed it right; I felt as if I was there before. I could almost name the earthy smell that hypnotized us, given a familiar tune to the husky voice that refreshed the tired bodies and locate the pleasant surroundings that sheltered us. My husband was aghast, how could I be so complacent and ‘deja vuing’ when we were in the strangest of location possible? Well, I had no answer to his thoughts, but yes, the feeling was so profound that had it been feasible, I would have insisted on staying over in that place for the day. And when it was parting time, it was like leaving something precious behind. The lady hugged me and blessed me in her man-like voice, and suddenly I felt as if all the walls were down, and some connection had been made. But how could I explain the feeling? I guess amnesia and déjà vu walked hand in hand at that point of time.
Sigmund Freud said that the feeling of déjà vu corresponds to the memory of an unconscious fantasy. Very nicely put, is not it?
And now, when I look back and wonder about the dream like scenes, and as I wait for many such moments to come, I would like to share a poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti, that best sums up this unique panorama.
"I have been here before,
But when or how I cannot tell:
I know the grass beyond the door,
The sweet keen smell,
The sighing sound, the lights around the shore.
You have been mine before,—
How long ago I may not know:
But just when at that swallow’s soar
Your neck turn’d so,
Some veil did fall,—I knew it all of yore.
Has this been thus before?
And shall not thus time’s eddying flight
Still with our lives our love restore
In death’s despite,
And day and night yield one delight once more?”
Yes, it has happened to me many a times, and I know that you have gone through the same experience some day or the other. I cannot count the number of instances when I have been sitting with a select group of people whom I have never met ever before in my life, and suddenly this feeling dawns out of nowhere that I had done this some other day, in some other times. At times, even the words that come out of my mouth feel as if I am repeating them from some situation that I have already gone through.
Not only people and situations, certain material objects also seem familiar. An artist friend had an art exhibition a few weeks ago where I was an invitee. She is a reputed painter with number of her paintings being exhibited in prestigious art houses the world over. On that particular day, she had put up her recent works that included a sketch of an old lady. And suddenly, without even the slightest thought to the repercussions of my feelings in full public view, I exclaimed, “I have seen this sketch somewhere.” And honestly speaking, my intention was not to insult her chef d’oeuvre, or to say that it was a copy. But the damage was already done, and from that day on, she has had atleast three more exhibitions, but I was not invited to any of those!
Deja vu is like rewinding a tape by the Almighty to show to his subjects, à la repeating the same blockbuster time and again by the movie channels. Many researchers like Ian Stevenson believe that some cases of déjá vu might be explained on the basis of reincarnation. In the book “ A Textbook of Psychology”, the psychologist Edward B. Titchener explained déjà vu as caused by a person having a brief glimpse of an object or situation, before the brain has completed “constructing” a full conscious perception of the experience. Such a “partial perception” then results in a false sense of familiarity (courtesy: Wikipedia). But whatever the scientific or rational explanation for the phenomenon may be, it is something that makes one feel surreal. What I feel at times is like as if I know that I am here, but even then I am somehow distracted, that is the “being not there in spite of being there” feel. If it sounds too confusing, then there is no other way to express the feeling in words.
A few months back, we had taken the highway route from Delhi to Guwahati. It was a unique experience for us, kids and all, with a mountain of luggage and strange streets that led to unknown destinations. I remember that it was somewhere in the UP-Bihar border, and the smooth highway and the series of green mountains at the horizon created a picture straight out of some painter’s brush. The kids were hungry, and we had exhausted the stock of food that we had carried with us. The sides of the street were vacant and there seemed no possibility of finding any restaurant or any other eatery nearby. I was almost at my wits end, for the trip was my brainchild. But like a god sent, we saw a small eatery at some distance. It was a small place, with unbelievably clean interiors and spotless chair-backs and table cloth. Manned by a lady of formidable proportions with a man-like voice, I felt secure in the premises almost immediately. The food can be best compared to ambrosia, and the water was sparkling crystal (though it was not mineral water). And you guessed it right; I felt as if I was there before. I could almost name the earthy smell that hypnotized us, given a familiar tune to the husky voice that refreshed the tired bodies and locate the pleasant surroundings that sheltered us. My husband was aghast, how could I be so complacent and ‘deja vuing’ when we were in the strangest of location possible? Well, I had no answer to his thoughts, but yes, the feeling was so profound that had it been feasible, I would have insisted on staying over in that place for the day. And when it was parting time, it was like leaving something precious behind. The lady hugged me and blessed me in her man-like voice, and suddenly I felt as if all the walls were down, and some connection had been made. But how could I explain the feeling? I guess amnesia and déjà vu walked hand in hand at that point of time.
Sigmund Freud said that the feeling of déjà vu corresponds to the memory of an unconscious fantasy. Very nicely put, is not it?
And now, when I look back and wonder about the dream like scenes, and as I wait for many such moments to come, I would like to share a poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti, that best sums up this unique panorama.
"I have been here before,
But when or how I cannot tell:
I know the grass beyond the door,
The sweet keen smell,
The sighing sound, the lights around the shore.
You have been mine before,—
How long ago I may not know:
But just when at that swallow’s soar
Your neck turn’d so,
Some veil did fall,—I knew it all of yore.
Has this been thus before?
And shall not thus time’s eddying flight
Still with our lives our love restore
In death’s despite,
And day and night yield one delight once more?”
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