[This dream is dated 18 July 2010. I don’t have a dream diary. But I do note down dreams that are very vivid and/or disturbing.]
I meet a septuagenarian man exuding Marquez-ish gravitas, but who makes his living as a taxi driver. In reality, he is an award-winning theatre person, probably a playwright. I don’t remember his name other than the fact that it starts with S. We become good friends instantly, making a unique connection or one artist recognising another. S moonlights with a theatre group. When he comes to know that I can act, he asks me to join his theatre group. I protest the way Japanese protest, part delighted part ashamed of not living up to such honour. S takes me to meet his talented theatre group. I am excited. The director is a woman in her late 20’s of part German part Indian ancestry. Her name strikes me as beautiful–Aditi Mueller. She is a strong woman with an air of a punk rock star. She says I am not welcome to join her group. S tries to ask her for a chance, an audition, if she pleases but he is brushed off. Aditi Mueller is adamant. She almost throws a tantrum. S throws up his hands in the air and apologises profusely to me. I feel somewhat insulted.