How bizarre.

It's a bizarre movie I'm watching. Or is it a book I'm reading? In a dark small room, a small tin boy arranges things importantly; he's waiting for someone to come. Can't say if it has life, but it's certainly moving. And smiling.A train with a steam engine, puffs around hilly bends. Everything I see is inside a thick ornate golden frame.The frame disappears. I'm in the train going somewhere.Now I'm in a green flowery place, both familiar and unfamiliar. It's places I know somehow entwined with places I can only imagine, they are so beautiful. I come out in a particularly beautiful clearing with curtains of flowers hanging down slender tree branches.I turn around and look carefully at the path I'm on so that I can come back to this place. There's a lawn with a little bird-bath a little ahead. And there's this perfect cup cake of a house, all cream and pink. I haven't seen this one before. I go closer and read 'Griha' written on the door. Explains a lot. There's a small girl washing her face at a basin outside the Griha. She looks at me for a few seconds as I walk slowly past, then resumes washing her face.The trees are denser now. I reach a small shack. I had known all this while that this is my destination, but I realize it only now. I open the door. It's dark inside, it takes me sometime to get my vision.The tin boy was standing on the table near the window. With a smile that foze my blood. I was too late. It was waiting for me. And it had died waiting. I don't know what was more of a shock, the fact that it had died or that it's me it was waiting for.