Sleep did not come easily to Nirja that night.
The city outside her window had quieted hours ago, but her mind refused to follow. She lay awake in the dim light of her room, staring at the ceiling as the memory of the river replayed itself again and again.
The glowing lotus.
The warmth in the water.
And the whisper.
The bloom is near.
Nirja turned onto her side, pulling the blanket closer. She tried to convince herself it had been nothing more than a trick of light. The sun reflecting on the surface of the river. Maybe her mind had filled in the rest.
But the memory felt too vivid.
Too real.
Every time she closed her eyes, she could see the lotus again—the delicate petals glowing beneath the water, perfectly still as if the river itself had paused to cradle it.
She groaned quietly and sat up.
"Great," she muttered to herself. "Now I'm hallucinating flowers."
The digital clock beside her bed glowed faintly.
1:47 AM.
Outside, the night air drifted through the half-open window, carrying the distant sound of traffic and the occasional bark of a stray dog. Everything about the world felt ordinary.
Yet somewhere deep in her chest, something stirred uneasily.
Nirja rubbed her eyes and stood, walking over to the window. From her apartment building she couldn't see the river itself, but she knew it wasn't far away. Only a few streets separated her from the ghats where she had spent the morning.
She leaned against the window frame and sighed.
"Why would a lotus appear in the river?" she whispered.
No answer came.
After a while she returned to bed, exhaustion finally beginning to creep into her body. Her thoughts slowly softened, blurring together like ripples in water.
Eventually, sleep claimed her.
And with it came the dream.
—
At first, Nirja thought she was awake.
She stood at the edge of a riverbank, the cool night air brushing against her skin. Moonlight stretched across the water in silver reflections, and the gentle current flowed past her feet.
But something was wrong.
The river looked familiar, yet different.
The wide stone steps of the ghats were there, but they seemed older—newly carved rather than worn by centuries of footsteps. Tall temples rose along the river's edge, their intricate carvings glowing softly in the moonlight.
Oil lamps floated across the water in hundreds of tiny flames.
Their reflections danced like stars upon the surface.
Nirja looked around slowly.
People moved through the streets nearby, their voices distant and soft. They wore traditional clothing unlike anything she had seen in modern times. Some carried lanterns, others offered prayers toward the river.
The air smelled faintly of sandalwood and jasmine.
"This… isn't right," Nirja murmured.
The words left her mouth as mist in the cool air.
She stepped closer to the water, her bare feet brushing the smooth stone beneath her.
The river shimmered gently.
And then she saw her.
A woman stood in the middle of the river.
The water reached only to her ankles, yet Nirja knew the river there should have been deep enough to swallow a boat.
The woman stood perfectly still, as if the current flowed around her rather than through her.
Her long dark hair drifted softly with the movement of the water. She wore simple white clothing that caught the moonlight like pale silk.
But it was the object in her hands that drew Nirja's breath away.
A lotus.
The flower glowed with the same soft golden light Nirja had seen beneath the river that morning. Its petals shimmered faintly, casting gentle ripples of brightness across the surface of the water.
The woman lifted her gaze.
Her eyes met Nirja's.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Something about the woman's expression felt strangely calm. Not surprised. Not alarmed.
Almost… familiar.
As though she had been expecting Nirja all along.
Nirja swallowed.
"Who are you?" she asked.
Her voice echoed softly across the water.
The woman tilted her head slightly, studying her.
"The river remembers," she said quietly.
Her voice was gentle, yet it carried across the flowing water with effortless clarity.
Nirja frowned.
"What does that mean?"
The woman didn't answer immediately. Instead, she lowered her gaze toward the lotus in her hands.
The flower pulsed softly with light.
"The river carries every memory," she continued. "Every joy. Every sorrow."
She lifted the lotus slightly, and its glow brightened.
"And when the time comes… it calls."
Nirja felt a strange chill move through her.
"Calls who?"
The woman's gaze returned to her.
"The one who must listen."
The lotus suddenly flared with golden light.
The water around them began to swirl.
Nirja stumbled back slightly as the calm river transformed into a whirl of glowing currents. The floating lamps spun across the surface like drifting stars caught in a storm.
The woman remained perfectly still.
"When the lotus blooms…" she whispered.
The light intensified, reflecting in the river like a thousand suns.
"…the Keeper must awaken."
The river roared.
The glowing lotus burst into blinding brilliance—
—
Nirja jolted awake.
Her breath came in sharp gasps as she sat upright in bed.
For a moment she didn't know where she was.
The temples were gone.
The riverbank had vanished.
Only her quiet bedroom remained, bathed in pale moonlight filtering through the window.
Her heart pounded loudly in her chest.
"Just a dream," she whispered.
But something felt wrong.
A strange warmth spread across her wrist.
Frowning, Nirja looked down.
For a brief moment, a faint glow shimmered against her skin.
A delicate shape appeared—petals forming a small lotus symbol on the inside of her wrist.
Nirja stared in disbelief.
The mark pulsed once with soft golden light.
Then it faded.
Her skin returned to normal as if nothing had happened.
She touched the spot slowly.
There was no mark.
No warmth.
Nothing.
Nirja exhaled shakily and swung her legs off the bed.
"This is getting weird," she muttered.
She walked to the window again, pushing it open wider.
Cool night air flowed into the room.
Somewhere in the distance, she could hear the faint rush of the river moving through the sleeping city.
The sound was soft.
Steady.
Endless.
Nirja closed her eyes for a moment, letting the sound fill the silence.
And just as she began to turn away—
She thought she heard it again.
A whisper carried through the wind.
Soft.
Almost impossible to hear.
Find me.
Nirja froze.
Her eyes slowly returned to the dark horizon where the river flowed unseen through the night.
A strange certainty settled in her chest.
Whatever she had seen that morning…
Whatever that dream had been…
It wasn't over.
And somewhere beneath the quiet waters of the ancient river, something had begun to awaken. 🌸