January 10, 2008
The next morning arrived gently. Birds were singing outside the window, and the soft light of the sun filled the room with warmth. Inside, the alarm rang as usual—but this time, Bhairava woke up on his own. He reached over and turned it off, sitting up slowly, still feeling the weight of the dream from the night before.
His eyes landed on the diary lying on the table. A small smile formed on his face. He raised his fist and lightly punched his own cheek, then looked at the back of his hand.
It worked.
For the first time, it had actually worked. A lucid dream. Even though it lasted only a short while, it had happened. The excitement rushed through him. He jumped up, full of energy, played his favourite song, and started dancing around the room. His movements were wild and happy, his heart light. Still dancing, he made his way to the washroom, freshened up, and got ready for college.
As he stepped out of his room, Shivani came out of hers at the same time. She stopped, staring at him in disbelief. Bhairava was already dressed, smiling, and full of energy.
"You're late today," he teased, flashing a grin.
Shivani blinked, stunned. She is trying to process what she was seeing.
They walked down the stairs together. In the kitchen, their mother was cooking breakfast, the smell of spices and warmth filling the air. Bhairava, still riding the wave of joy grabbed Shivani's hand, spinning her into a dance.
Their mother saw and laughed, surprised but happy. "Bhairava," she said with a smile, "looks like you're in a good mood today."
He nodded, eyes bright. "I am."
Bhairava and Shivani sat together at the dining table, eating breakfast. The morning light filled the room, and the smell of warm food made everything feel calm and familiar. Bhairava was in a good mood, smiling between bites, while Shivani kept glancing at him, still surprised by his energy.
As he reached for another spoonful, he looked up at his mother. "Mom, didn't Dad come home yesterday?"
She didn't look up from the stove. "He might've been busy," she said casually.
In the background, the television played quietly. A news anchor's voice broke through the soft hum of the morning. "A drunk driving accident occurred late last night. The woman hit by the car died on the spot. Police have filed a case and are searching for the suspect."
Neither Bhairava nor Shivani reacted. The words passed like a breeze, unnoticed in the rhythm of their morning. They finished breakfast, packed their bags, and got ready to leave—Shivani for school, Bhairava for college.
As they stepped outside, an old man stood near the gate, waiting. His eyes were sharp, and his clothes were worn. He looked at Bhairava and asked, "Lawyer Geetha?"
Bhairava nodded. "Yeah, that's my mom. What do you need?"
Before the man could answer, his mother's voice called from behind. "Bhairava, what are you still doing? Take Shivani to school!"
He turned to the old man, gave a polite nod, then climbed onto his cycle. Shivani sat on the back, adjusting her bag. As they rode off down the street, Bhairava glanced over his shoulder. His mother was speaking with the old man.
He didn't know why, but something about the moment made him uneasy.
As usual, Mano joined them at the corner of the street, and the three rode off together—Shivani to school, Bhairava and Mano to college. The morning was bright, the streets busy with people heading to work, shops opening, and cycles weaving through traffic.
Bhairava sat behind Mano, watching the city pass by in flashes of colour and sound. As they neared the college gate, something caught his eye.
It was Ananya.
She was coming out of the college, walking fast, almost running. Her hair was slightly dishevelled; her bag clutched tightly against her chest. She didn't look around. She didn't notice them.
She was rushing down the sidewalk, her head low, her steps fast and uneven. Her bag bounced against her side as she moved, almost as if she was in hurry.
"Stop," Bhairava said suddenly, tapping Mano's shoulder.
Mano slowed the cycle and looked in the direction Bhairava was staring. "What is it?"
Bhairava kept staring at the direction Ananya had gone, his eyes narrowed. Then, after a pause, he blinked, shook his head slightly, and said, "Nothing. Go to college."
Mano gave him a curious look and pedalled forward, and the cycle rolled on.
The cycle rolled past the college gate and college was buzzing with voices, footsteps, and the usual chaos. Bhairava walked through the corridor, his eyes scanning the familiar desks.
Then he saw her Shreya, she was sitting at her desk, her head tilted slightly as she read something, her hair falling gently across her shoulder. The morning light from the window touched her face, and for a moment, everything else faded.
His heart lifted. A smile spread across his face, and he felt a sudden burst of energy. He slid into his seat, still grinning.
Mano raised an eyebrow. "What happened? You look like you just won the lottery."
Bhairava leaned closer, whispering with excitement. "I had a lucid dream. First time ever."
Mano's eyes widened. "Seriously? How was it? What did you do?"
Bhairava shrugged, still smiling. "It didn't last long. Just a few seconds, I think. But I knew I was dreaming. It felt… different."
Before Mano could ask more, the classroom door opened and the professor Viraj walked in, holding the attendance sheet. The room settled into a low murmur.
The professor flipping open the attendance register with the same practiced rhythm.
"Ananya," he said, glancing at the list. "She's on leave today."
Bhairava turned toward her desk. Empty. That was unusual. "Leave?"
"Anu and Raki?" the professor continued. "Still abroad, Internship."
The class barely reacted. A few murmurs, a few glances. But Bhairava wasn't listening anymore.
Ananya was never absent. She was the kind of student who showed up even when she was sick, always early, focused and always prepared. Her empty desk felt strange.
Bhairava leaned toward Mano. "Ananya's not here today."
Mano shrugged. "Maybe she's sick."
"No," Bhairava said quietly. "I saw her. Just now. When we entered. She was leaving."
Mano frowned, finally turning to him. "You sure it was her?"
"I know what I saw."
Mano shook his head. "Could've been someone else. Why would she come all the way here just to leave?"
But Bhairava wasn't convinced. Something about it didn't sit right. It wasn't just her absence it was the way the professor said it. Quick. Dismissive. Like he didn't want questions.
The classroom was quiet, filled with the soft rustle of pages and the low hum of concentration. Everyone was working on their thesis, heads down, lost in thought. Then, the lunch bell rang, slicing through the stillness.