After the sleep-recovery device is turned on, a strange change begins across the world. People can sleep, dream, but those dreams are no longer personal.
Every person's dreams come together to create a new city - the new Nishupur.
Leaders, kings, philosophers are born in the new Nishupur - but they are not people, they are subconscious images of dreams. And from the government building of this dream-city, an announcement was sent:
"All decisions in the world will now be made in the court of dreams. There will be no difference between reality and dreams."
Ayan, who had fallen asleep holding his hand, understood - there would be nothing left to call reality in this world. People would slowly get lost in the world of their own dreams, and Nishupur would become a global web of illusion.
Sayan said, "You can end it all if you want."
"How?" - Ayan asked.
Sayan said, "The river must be put to sleep. If the sleepless river falls asleep, Nishupur will disappear - people will return to reality again."
But for this, Ayan would have to sacrifice himself - all his memories, all his dreams, he would have to give up to the river. Losing himself, he would have to put the river to sleep.
---
On the last night, Ayan stood in front of the river of Nishupur. In his hand was that small glass jar - the last living dream inside. He opened the jar and threw it into the river.
The river trembled, its water gradually stopped, and a quiet, gentle melody floated in the air - the melody that carried a pitiful plea for farewell.
In an instant, the sky of Nishupur became empty. All dreams, all politics, all illusions collapsed.
People returned to their own lives - sleep, dreams, reality were all separate again.
But...
Ayon is nowhere to be found.
No one remembered his name. No one knows who gave him back his sleep.
Only in an old bookstore on the corner of a street in Dhaka, a book with a dusty cover is lying:
"The Sleepless River of Nishupur"
Author: Unknown.
And while reading the book, sometimes someone hears in a soft voice,
"I was, I am, I will be... inside your every dream."
---
The end.
(But who knows, whether Nishupur will wake up again one day...)
Every person's dreams come together to create a new city - the new Nishupur.
Leaders, kings, philosophers are born in the new Nishupur - but they are not people, they are subconscious images of dreams. And from the government building of this dream-city, an announcement was sent:
"All decisions in the world will now be made in the court of dreams. There will be no difference between reality and dreams."
Ayan, who had fallen asleep holding his hand, understood - there would be nothing left to call reality in this world. People would slowly get lost in the world of their own dreams, and Nishupur would become a global web of illusion.
Sayan said, "You can end it all if you want."
"How?" - Ayan asked.
Sayan said, "The river must be put to sleep. If the sleepless river falls asleep, Nishupur will disappear - people will return to reality again."
But for this, Ayan would have to sacrifice himself - all his memories, all his dreams, he would have to give up to the river. Losing himself, he would have to put the river to sleep.
---
On the last night, Ayan stood in front of the river of Nishupur. In his hand was that small glass jar - the last living dream inside. He opened the jar and threw it into the river.
The river trembled, its water gradually stopped, and a quiet, gentle melody floated in the air - the melody that carried a pitiful plea for farewell.
In an instant, the sky of Nishupur became empty. All dreams, all politics, all illusions collapsed.
People returned to their own lives - sleep, dreams, reality were all separate again.
But...
Ayon is nowhere to be found.
No one remembered his name. No one knows who gave him back his sleep.
Only in an old bookstore on the corner of a street in Dhaka, a book with a dusty cover is lying:
"The Sleepless River of Nishupur"
Author: Unknown.
And while reading the book, sometimes someone hears in a soft voice,
"I was, I am, I will be... inside your every dream."
---
The end.
(But who knows, whether Nishupur will wake up again one day...)
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