4. ATTEMPTS FOR LUCID DREAMING
Life just keeps throwing surprises at us, doesn’t it? The past few weeks have been a whirlwind, and it's been so bizarre that it feels like I might be losing my mind. So many coincidences! I took a sigh of relief when such events stopped. I was certain that it was over, but turns out, I was completely wrong.
For several days, I didn't experience any lucid dreams, and nothing out of the ordinary happened until that fateful night when I saw Swami in the hospital and learned that he had been in a coma for quite some time. This revelation sparked a myriad of questions within me, reigniting my desire to return to the Lucid Universe. However, lucid dreaming isn't a skill I can control; it unfolds on its own terms. I had only experienced two lucid dreams before— the first time being guided by Swami and the second with the help of the tea from Mickey. But now neither Swami was there nor was any magical tea to carry me to that strange place. Having no means of going there and getting answers to my questions, all I could do was wait.
As I found all the doors to the Lucid Universe shut, I wished Swami had chosen someone else for the help, because no matter how much I tried, I could not go back there, nor could I ignore the thought that he needed my help. I wished I could have brought more tea bags from the Lucid Universe here. But one cannot simply bring any substance from that world to the real world. I had nothing that could take me there. Suddenly I recalled something— something I had read long back in a magazine— the use of psychoactive substances.
Even though it was a long time ago, I could recall a few details from that old memory that I thought had faded. It was the magazine that had introduced me to lucid dreaming. I read about hacks, including the use of psychoactive substances like galantamine, alpha-GPC, and huperzine-A. I didn't have those tea bags, but I could procure these substances, if they of course, did not require a prescription. Other hacks mentioned were reality testing, keeping a dream journal, and mnemonic induction of lucid dreams or MILD.
While attempting those hacks didn't seem dangerous, they did require a substantial investment of time, and I did not know if I could wait that long. If Swami was in some trouble, which I sensed to be likely, delay could have made it worse. The only alternative route to the world of Lucid Dreams was through Swami's intervention, yet it appeared he was unable to aid me. Despite my diminishing optimism, I persisted in my pursuit, exploring every avenue to enhance my chances of experiencing lucid dreaming.
In my quest to achieve mnemonic-induced lucid dreaming, I established a routine of setting an alarm for five hours after going to bed. This timing coincides with the period when the prefrontal cortex is most active during sleep. It is said that around five to six hours into sleep, our prefrontal cortex, responsible for complex thinking, becomes significantly active. When someone awakens and then goes back to sleep after being awake for a short period, typically twenty to sixty minutes, the prefrontal cortex remains active while the rest of the brain remains in a sleep state. . This heightened activity in the prefrontal cortex facilitates an awareness of the dreaming state, allowing individuals to influence the course of their dreams. Additionally, it is important to verbally affirm, "Next time when I dream, I will remember that I am dreaming," a practice I also employed.
Another practice I adopted was maintaining a dream journal. Upon waking up every morning, I remained still for a while and tried to recall my dreams and identify recurring dream signs. Through this method, one enhances their ability to perceive events in their dreams. The next time they enter a dream, noticing these things helps them recognize the dream state.
To differentiate between reality and dreams, I cultivated the practice of internal questioning: 'Is this real or a dream?' I'd then delve into additional inquiries, such as when I arrived at a certain place and why I came.
As for the use of psychoactive substances, I ultimately abandoned the idea. Being on antidepressants already, I hesitated due to concerns about potential interactions and adverse effects. Additionally, I was unsure if these substances required a prescription, and I couldn't exactly ask a doctor for them as it might sound irrational.
Despite my continuous exploration of various methods of lucid dreaming, I hadn't yet managed to enter the realm of lucid dreams. Nonetheless, I persisted because I felt an inner conviction that the universe was guiding me, and that I had a role to fulfill. It's also ingrained in my nature to assist others in any way possible. People often cautioned me that this inclination might lead to trouble, but for some reason, I've always been willing to take that risk—trusting and aiding others, not seeking appreciation but to satisfy the conviction that would otherwise accuse me of selfishness if I didn't act.
Well, you might assume that lucid dreaming consumed all my attention, but that wasn't the case. I remained grounded in the real world, diligently fulfilling my daily responsibilities. I was steadfast in caring for my friend Ashish, who was steadily recovering. Each day, without fail, I visited him at the hospital, witnessing the encouraging signs of his progress. Milap, too, was a frequent visitor, and we often spent extended periods chatting together in the hospital.
During these daily visits, not only did I offer support to Ashish, but I also took the opportunity to check in on Swami's family. Despite having limited information about Swami, gathered from our encounter in the Lucid Universe and his televised interview, I felt compelled to offer my support. Day after day, I questioned about Swami's health, always receiving the unchanged answer— he still lingered in a coma.
By the way, I had forgotten to mention other information about Swami. You might remember when I encountered him in a dream, he had mentioned that his name was Swami and I asked what his full name was, he had said “It’s just Swami.” I had said “It’s strange.” to which he replied “Many things are.”
I often wondered why Swami had been so enigmatic about his name. After some investigation, I discovered that his full name was Arunya Rajan Swami. His children lived in another city, so it was just him and his wife here. I remember the day of Ashish’s accident; his son and granddaughter were also at the hospital. However, they returned home after a few days, leaving just his wife by his side.
It appeared that his wife seldom left the hospital premises. Despite the ICU's restrictions on family visits, she remained stationed outside. Regardless of the time—whether I visited in the early morning before work, in the evening after work, or even late at night—she occupied the same spot, often engrossed in knitting a sweater, likely for her granddaughter, or immersed in a book. Her interactions with others were scarce, and this was a consistent observation during my visits.
One Sunday morning, I was roused from my slumber by the insistent ringing of my phone. It was Milap.
“Hey, Sarthak! What’s up for today?” Milap asked, his tone cheery.
“Just the usual.” I replied, still groggy from sleep.
“Visiting Ashish?” he inquired.
“Yes, planning to head over. Why do you ask?” I responded.
“My bike's acting up, and it'll be in the shop for a day. Any chance of a lift to the hospital?”
“Of course, I'll swing by.”
“Great, see you soon.”
After fetching Milap, we arrived at the hospital to see Ashish. The door to his room was slightly ajar, so we entered quietly.
“Good morning Ashish.” —we greeted him as we entered his room. The space was surprisingly cozy, unlike the usual sterile hospital rooms. Soft, ambient light filtered in through the partially drawn curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. The television murmured softly in the background, and Ashish was asleep in an upright position, his back propped against the bed as if he had nodded off while watching TV. An unsolved Rubik’s cube sat on the bedside table next to the daily newspaper.
“Good morning. Sorry I dozed off while watching the news.” He said, opening his eyes. He muted the television and continued, “So what’s up? Milap, how’re things? Any luck with finding a good job?”
“Same, bro. I got a few offers, but the job descriptions didn't match.” he said, sitting on the comfy sofa. I joined him, placing my helmet on the table and picking up the Rubik’s cube.
“Would you like some tea?” he offered, and we nodded. He dialed the canteen’s number and ordered tea and some snacks.
“When are they discharging you?” I asked, my hands fidgeting with the Rubik’s cube.
“They're not sure, but most likely after three days. I'm just praying they don't delay it further. I'm so bored of being here for so long. Thank goodness, you guys are able to come here, otherwise, it’s so damn boring.”
“Don’t worry. It’s just for a few more days,” I said, “Then you’ll be home and...” I couldn’t continue as I felt my phone ringing. “Excuse me,” I said, went outside, and answered the call. It was Megha.
“Hi Megha. Good morning.”
“Good morning, Sarthak. Are you heading to the hospital to see Ashish today?”
“Oops. I'm already here at the hospital.”
“Oh, alright. I was planning to come too. I'll give you a call once I'm there. I should be arriving in about an hour.”
“Sure, just let me know when you're here.”
“Okay, Sarthak. Thanks.”
“No problem.” I hung up and rejoined Milap and Ashish in the room.
“Who was on the line?” Ashish inquired, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.
As the aroma of freshly brewed tea filled the room, I noticed the arrival of the much-awaited snacks. Milap graciously poured tea for each of us, passing me a cup with a warm smile.
“Just Megha.” I replied nonchalantly, taking a sip of the steaming beverage.
Ashish's playful grin widened. “Ah, Megha! Looks like things are getting interesting.” he teased, earning a chuckle from Milap.
“Come on, Ashish, not this again.” I pleaded, feeling my cheeks flush.
“Hey, I'm serious! She's a great match for you. You should consider dating her.” Ashish persisted.
I shrugged, attempting to divert the conversation. “Maybe, maybe. Let's see.”
“So, what was her call about?” Ashish asked.
“She mentioned she's heading over to see you.” I replied and picked up some snacks.
“Alright.” Ashish said with a smile, settling back into his pillows.
After some more chit-chatting, I decided to inquire about Swami’s health. Excusing myself, I made my way to meet his wife.
As I reached the waiting area, I saw his wife was engaged in a phone call. When she disconnected, I approached her and greeted her.
“Good morning aunty. How are you?” I said and sat on an empty chair beside her. “Did you have breakfast?” I asked.
“Yes I did. You?”
“Yes Aunty ji.”
“How is your friend doing now?” She enquired. “Any idea when he'll be discharged?”
“He is doing better. They are saying that he can be taken home after three days.”
“That's good to hear,” she replied with a weary tone. Her voice held a hint of indifference, yet the fault wasn't entirely hers. It seemed that her repeated visits to the hospital had worn her down, and seeing Swami in the same condition only deepened this weariness. It appeared as though she was trying to distance herself from her emotions, as if she no longer wanted to feel anything at all.
I wanted to inquire about Swami, but I had been asking the same question repeatedly for the past few days. Now, I hesitated, fearing that my repetitive questioning might irritate her. Though I wished to ask about Swami's condition, the words seemed reluctant to leave my lips. Unsure of how to continue the conversation, I lingered in an awkward silence for a moment.
Finally, Swami’s wife broke the silence and asked— “Son, May I ask you something?”
“Yes please, tell me.” I replied, ready to listen.
She fixed her gaze on me and said, “Son, the way you inquire about my husband, coming here daily, it doesn't seem like you know him just from watching his interview. Have you ever met him in person?” I hesitated briefly before replying, “No, I come to the hospital every day to see my friend. But I also find myself curious about Swami, wanting to know how he is.”
She nodded, then added, “I sense there's more to it. I don't know why, but I feel you might have crossed paths with him somewhere. If that's the case, I don’t know why you did not tell me.” After a pause, she continued, “Sorry, I may be overanalyzing, but that was on my mind, so I shared. I hope you don’t mind.”
In that moment, my inner voice urged me to reveal the truth, even though a part of me warned it might be folly. Uncertainty clouded my thoughts. She would surely think I was crazy. So, I decided to stay silent. ‘But what could I tell her?’ Making up a story seemed impossible. An unexpected confession slipped out, “Well, it might sound odd, but I encountered Swami in a dream.”
I waited for her reaction, expecting surprise or disbelief. However, she remained composed and asked, “Okay, so what happened in that dream?”
I felt uneasy but recounted the events of my dream where I encountered Swami, and how afterwards, I learned more about him through the television interview. I chose not to mention the incident with the SMS, as it would have sounded too extraordinary. However, her next question surprised me— “And what about the SMS?”
“There was no SMS. I have already told you,” I replied, taken aback.
“Yes, I know there was no SMS the next day, but was there any SMS after a few days?”
Instead of answering her question, I blurted out my own, “I'm sorry, but I'm surprised by how unaffected you seem by all of this. Don’t you think it’s too uncanny to be a mere coincidence?”
“Uncanny! No. If you think it’s uncanny, then I must tell you that I have witnessed stranger happenings. If I shared them with others, they would surely think I'm a crazy lady.”
“Which incidents?” I asked curiously.
Well, those incidents are not important for the moment. But regarding your description, I trust you. It aligns with what I've read in his journal. He documented his daily experiences in the lucid dreaming universe, revealing his fascination with this mysterious world. To be frank, it seemed to be driving him to the brink of obsession.
I found myself wondering, ‘He had a dream journal too?’ Perhaps asking about it would provide clues to help him. However, I decided against bringing it up and instead, let her continue her story for the time being.
She continued describing Swami's obsession with the Lucid Universe— “I also feel that his comatose condition is somehow connected to his dreams. He was perfectly fine; he had a full-body check-up just a month ago, and there were no abnormal reports. It's very strange that he went to sleep and didn't wake up on time. This wasn't just a one-time occurrence. I noticed for many days that he slept for unusually long periods. It was almost as if sleeping had become his favorite activity. Sometimes, he woke up very late and went to the office late. He seemed entranced by the allure of the world of lucid dreaming.”
I was deeply moved by her words, realizing that my initial perception of her as stoic and resigned was incorrect. Her revelation shattered that facade, revealing her profound brokenness and devastation. Witnessing her tears was a heart-wrenching experience, and I felt compelled to do whatever I could to help.
I nodded in agreement, a subtle "Ok" escaping my lips. The realization hit me like a gentle wave – I should have offered more words of comfort. Social interactions have always been a bit challenging for me, and there are moments when I struggle to express what I truly feel. Meanwhile, my mobile rang, and it was Megha. “Excuse me. I think I'll go now.” I said to Swami's wife and left.
I received the call and heard Megha saying, “Hi Sarthak, where are you?”
“Hi Megha, have you reached?” I replied.
“Yes,” she confirmed. “I wanted to know the number of the room where Ashish is admitted.”
“Where are you right now?”
“At the reception.”
“Okay. Stay right there. I'll come over to see you.”
I soon reached the reception and noticed her. A happy feeling stirred within me at the sight of her. I sensed that I was beginning to like her. I remembered the advice of my psychologist, encouraging me to move on, and at that moment, I felt ready to embrace that change. However, was the sentiment reciprocated? I pushed aside that thought and escorted her to the room where Ashish was admitted.
“Hi Ashish.” she greeted him upon entering the room.
“Hi Megha. Good morning.” Ashish said, trying to sit upright. I noticed that Milap was not there.
“How are you now?” she said, taking a seat on the empty sofa.
“I am better now. They will discharge me soon.”
“That’s nice. I am sorry I could not visit sooner.” she said apologetically.
“It’s perfectly alright.” Ashish said. At that moment, Milap entered the room with a box of pizza in his hand.
“By the way, this is Milap. Milap, this is Megha. She has recently joined our office.” I introduced them to each other.
“Nice to meet you, Megha.” Milap said, took a seat on the other empty sofa, unboxed the pizza, and asked her, "Pizza?"
“No, I am fine. I just had breakfast.” she said with a gentle tone.
“But one slice of pizza is not going to cause any harm. Take it, I insist.” he said and handed over a slice to her. We also took a slice of pizza and engaged ourselves in further conversation.
After some time, Megha asked to leave, and I offered to accompany her up to the gate of the hospital, which she consented to.
Upon reaching the gate, I found myself reluctant to part ways with Megha, so I mustered the courage to ask—“Would you like to grab a cup of coffee?” She agreed, and we made our way to a nearby café. As we conversed, I couldn't shake off a peculiar feeling. When we were about to leave, I noticed a familiar face—the same girl from my lucid dream, the one I had also seen a few days ago at Singh’s restaurant. It was Myra. However, today I observed something I had missed before. In my dream, she had blonde hair, but that day I saw that her hair was black. Myra walked towards us, waving her hand in our direction. I hesitantly waved back, only to realize that she was actually waving to Megha, who knew her. I felt a twinge of embarrassment for my mistaken gesture.
“Hi Megha.” She greeted her with a warm smile, extending her hand as she came towards us. Megha returned the greeting with equal warmth, “Hi Myra, how are you?” It seemed like they were very good friends. With elegance, Megha introduced me to Myra, saying, “This is Sarthak, my colleague.”
“Hi Sarthak. Nice to meet you.” She said with a friendly smile.
“Nice to meet you too.” I replied, with a part of me somewhat lost in the newly rising question. A moment of uncertainty washed over me, leaving me momentarily speechless. Gathering my thoughts, I managed to ask, “By the way, have we met before?” Yet, her demeanor remained unchanged, offering no hint of recognition, nor did she admit to any prior encounter which occurred in the realm of a lucid dream. Could it be possible that she was not able to remember me?
My intuition preceded her reply, and I knew she was going to say no. And surely she did the same. “Certainly not,” she said, adding, “Why?”
“It’s just that I felt like I have seen you somewhere.”
“Could be. Small city. It's likely to run into the same people every now and then.”
“Yeah you could be right. It’s very likely.”
“Myra, please have a seat.” Megha offered, casting a quick glance at me to gauge my comfort. Sensing her silent query, I nodded slightly, indicating I was fine to stay longer. There was an unspoken agreement to linger a few more minutes. We all settled into our seats.
“So, Myra, what would you like to have?” Megha asked, initiating the conversation.
“I've already placed my order, thanks. My cab will be here soon, and I have to rush off urgently. I'll be eating in the cab.” Myra explained.
“Oh, okay.” replied Megha, understanding her situation.
“Yeah, I had planned to dine here too, but I just received an urgent call. Do you guys hang out here often?” Myra inquired, trying to make the most of the brief moment before she had to leave.
“No, we don't. Actually, a colleague of ours is admitted to a nearby hospital. We both had come to visit him, and it just occurred to us that we should grab a cup of coffee. So here we are.” Megha clarified with a smile.
“That's great.” Myra replied. They exchanged a few more words before Myra left as her cab arrived, leaving just the two of us outside the cafe.
After waving goodbye to Myra, Megha turned to me with a warm smile. “It was nice sitting here in the cafe with you.” she said. “I feel like we should hang out more often.”
If I wasn't mistaken, I sensed that she had developed feelings that went beyond friendship. My heart began to beat faster, and I realized that the feelings were mutual. I was finally ready to move on. Nodding, I replied, “Yes, sure. We'll plan to go out whenever time allows.”
She smiled, put on her helmet, and said, “See you at work. Have a good time.” Then she left.
For a brief moment, I stood amazed at the turn of events—just a few days ago, I didn't know how to let go of the past, and now, here I was, ready to embark on a new journey. I hoped my intuition wasn't mistaken. I hoped our feelings were mutual.
After returning home, I found myself in the familiar routine of scrolling through Facebook videos. Suddenly, a thought struck me: I could try to find Myra on Facebook through Megha's friends list. Navigating to Megha's profile, I began scrolling through her friends, hoping to spot Myra's name. After a bit of searching, I finally found her profile.
“Hi Myra, this is Sarthak, a friend of Megha's. I hope you remember me.” I messaged her.
After a moment, her reply came. “Hi Sarthak, how are you? I hope everything is well with you.”
“I'm doing well, thank you. Can I ask you something?” I inquired.
“Of course, go ahead.” she replied.
“I couldn't help but wonder, were you genuinely unable to recognize me, or was it a pretense? I vividly remembered our encounter from that lucid dream.” I asked.
“Yes, Sarthak, I do remember you. However, I think it's best not to dwell on the world of lucid dreams. Besides, Megha was present, and discussing such matters would be awkward and somewhat unexplainable. Let's just ignore whatever occurred in that realm. My advice would be to do the same.” she advised.
“Sorry, I don't understand why discussing the Lucid Universe would be harmful.” I asked.
“You call it the Lucid Universe!” She exclaimed.
“Yes, Why? What do you call it?” I inquired.
“I don't really call it anything. The state of dreaming is termed 'lucid' because we are aware of our dreaming state. However, the term 'Lucid Universe' doesn't seem to quite fit. But it's okay, it doesn't really matter what we call it.” she explained.
“Yes, but what harm can it really do to discuss it?” I pressed.
“It's hard to explain, Sarthak, but it's not wise to blur the lines between the world of dreams and reality. Doing so could lead to serious conditions like oneirophrenia or other psychological disorders. You never know when obsession might take hold and drive you to madness. Lucid dreaming is meant for enjoyment or for practicing some kind of skill, like driving or playing a musical instrument, nothing more. Don't delve too deeply into it.” she warned.
“Yes, I'm fully aware of the dangers of getting lost in a different world, and trust me, I'm not too curious about that. It's just that I need help with one thing. Can you assist me?”
“Yes, tell me.”
“Can you guide me on how to do lucid dreaming? I've been trying the journal method, mnemonic method, and other popular techniques I found online, but I haven't had any success.” I explained.
“I don't mean to offend you, but your eagerness to have a lucid dream might indicate the beginning of an obsession with lucid dreaming.” she cautioned.
Part of me wanted to tell her about Swami, but I replied after some thought, “No, I'm aware of my desires, and I'm sure I'm not being lured by lucid dreaming. I actually want to add extra hours to my day to learn a few things. I think I can practice my work during lucid dreaming.”
“I don't know why, Sarthak, but I sense there's something else driving you to ask for this. You can count on me, just tell me what it is.” she said.
Something told me that she could be trusted, so I gave in and said, “I have a friend who needs some help in the lucid universe. I don't know him in real life, but he needs some kind of help.”
“I think you should not interfere in such things; it might be dangerous. You cannot trust people from the lucid universe whom you don't know in real life. I cannot even imagine what kind of help one might need in the lucid universe.” she cautioned.
“I understand, but I just can't explain much. Just tell me how to induce lucid dreaming.” I requested.
‘Sarthak, don't try. Things that are destined to be done will be done somehow. Don't push yourself too much. Again, I am saying, don't try. I am sorry, but I can't help you with this.” she advised.
Disappointed, I refrained from pressing her further, sensing her reluctance to assist. Our conversation came to an end, leaving me with a sense of disappointment. But she seemed so right. Obviously, it makes no sense what kind of help Swami might require. Despite this reasoning, the desire to offer assistance persisted within me.
Myra's words were echoing in my mind—'don't try.' It struck a chord with me, serving as a reminder to refrain from forcing the situation. I recalled the concept of the law of reverse effort—the more we exert ourselves, the more likely we are to encounter obstacles. While it doesn't always hold true, there's often wisdom in allowing events to unfold naturally. I resolved to adopt this approach and let circumstances take their course.
Thereafter, I refrained from excessive effort. I continued with my previous methods of lucid dreaming and relinquished control to the universe. That night, I fell asleep listening to a podcast about the simulation theory of the universe and the concept of the multiverse. Thoughts about the Lucid Universe had piqued my curiosity about the multiverse and the nature of reality, and I found the topic incredibly fascinating. Placing my mobile beside me, I drifted into the world of dreams.
5. THE QUEST FOR SWAMI
I sat immersed in the morning sunlight, its golden warmth enveloping me in a cocoon of tranquility. Although I held a book in my hands, its pages remained untouched as my thoughts wandered into different realms. The café, sparsely populated and quiet, offered the perfect setting for my contemplation, each empty table adding to the depth of my solitude. Lost in my thoughts, I almost forgot why I had come—to spend a moment with Megha, to unravel the mysteries of her being, and to get to know her better.
But why was I so lost in thoughts? I couldn't even recall the origin of these musings. Perhaps it began with a few pages of the book, leading me to imagine fantastical worlds and taking me on a mental journey far from the café.
Just then, Megha arrived, her presence bringing me back to the real world. “Hi. Where are you lost?” she said as she took the seat.
“Nowhere, really. I was just... I was just lost in some thought,” I replied, struggling to articulate my thoughts. “How are you?”
“I'm good. I'm sorry I'm late.” she said, taking a seat on the comfy chair facing me.
“It's alright.” I replied, glad that she had finally arrived. Before I could ask her what she would like to have, she picked up the book I had placed on the table. Her eyes lit up with excitement as she exclaimed, “Wow, you're reading A Thousand Splendid Suns!”
I smiled, delighted to find a shared interest. “Yes, I started it a few days ago. It's recommended by many people. Have you read it?”
“No, I haven’t read it, but I've heard a lot about this book. It's on my TBR list.”
“TBR?”
“To be read. I thought, as a fellow reader, you knew. It's often used by avid readers.”
“Oh, I see. Sorry, I wasn't familiar with the abbreviation. Have you read any other books by Khaled Hosseini?” I asked, our conversation flowed effortlessly.
“Yes, ‘The Kite Runner.’ It’s one of my favorite books so far.”
“Mine too,” I said, smiling and feeling a growing sense of connection between us. “It's an incredible read.” Realizing we hadn't ordered yet, I glanced around the café and signaled for the waiter. “So, what would you like to have?”
“Hmm, how about a caffè latte?” Megha replied, briefly scanning the menu.
“Sure.” I agreed, signaling to the waiter.
“What about you?” Megha asked, her eyes curious.
“Umm, I'm not sure. I just finished a cappuccino. Actually, I came a bit earlier. Thought to read the book in the meantime.” I explained.
“That's great. It's important to take out time for your hobbies.” Megha remarked warmly. She then turned her attention back to placing our orders and said, “Well, I insist you also order something for yourself.”
“Okay. Okay. I can't say no to you. I think I'll have ginger honey lemon tea.” I said, signaling to the waiter.
As we waited for our drinks, Megha glanced around the café, her eyes lingering on the artwork adorning the walls. “This place has such a cozy atmosphere!” she remarked.
“Yes, it's one of my favorite spots to unwind.” I agreed, taking in the comforting ambiance. And soon we were immersed in our conversation getting to know more about each other.
As I was conversing with her, I became aware of a peculiar conversation nearby. I heard the first person asking, “So, how did the concept of the multiverse come about?” to which the other person replied, “Well, it started with Einstein's theory of relativity where he revolutionized our understanding of space and time by showing that they are intertwined in what he called spacetime. He said that gravity was not a force but the warping of fabric of spacetime around a massive object.”
Person 1: “So how does it propose the idea of a multiverse?”
Person 2: “Well, this idea was further expanded to explain other forces too. Like we can explain that electromagnetic force is not a force in itself but warping of dimension. And this leads to another question- warping of which dimension? The spacetime dimension was already used to explain the force of gravity and no other known dimension was there to explain other forces and thus it was proposed that perhaps there could be other dimensions which are so tiny and curled up around us that we cant perceive them or detect them by any means.”
Person 1: “Wow! that blows my mind.”
Person 2: “Yes, it’s quite interesting. And the idea of these multiple dimensions was resurfaced by string theory.”
I was so attentively listening to their conversation that for a while I was completely detached from the world around me and upon focusing back on ourselves, I realized that Megha was not there. When she left, I could not recall. Did she tell me before leaving? I must have hurt her by diverting my attention. Such questions were on my mind but before I could understand what had happened, the conversation drew my attention again. This time I realized that the conversation was not between the guys in the cafe but from the speakers in the cafe. That was strange. Who plays such a podcast in the cafe! PODCAST! That helped me recall something. I listened further to confirm if my thinking was just right.
Person 2: The vast number of dimensions required by string theory suggests the existence of many universes, each with its own unique set of physical laws and properties. This idea is supported by the concept of dark energy, which is another mysterious component of our universe. The amount of dark energy in our universe is incredibly fine-tuned, so much so that it's highly improbable.
Paying attention to the conversation and also trying to notice the strangeness of my surroundings, I confirmed that my thought was right. It was a dream. I was finally lucid dreaming. The conversation that I heard was actually the sound coming from my mobile, the podcast was still being played. I unlocked a new hack. If you listen to some podcast or something similar, you can hear those voices in your dream in one form or another. That may help you realize it’s a dream.
I came out of the cafe and flew and in a moment I came out of the earth and crossed the whole solar system. I felt like I was flying faster than the speed of light? Was it possible? Did that realm allow a person to fly or run faster than the speed of light? Seems like the speed of light is the maximum speed allowed by fabric of space and time in our universe only and other universes are not bound to that law. Other universes must have different sets of physical laws. The Multiverse must be real and the universe of the Lucid Universe must be one of those universes in this grand multiverse.
I flew aimlessly as I did not know where to find Swami. I crossed many light years in a short period of time and could not find Swami anywhere. I tried to imagine that mall and that bar where I had earlier met Swami but this did not help. Imagining that mall or that bar, merely constructed the replica of those places and I was not even sure those places existed in such a dynamic universe where everything was changing constantly.
After fleeing aimlessly in the search of Swami I became weary and gave up my search when suddenly the world around me dissolved and I found myself in another strange place, a place where there was nothing to be seen except bright white light in all the directions. One could not simply understand where it started and where it ended. It felt an infinite blank canvas ready to be painted. I could still hear the faded sound of the podcast. I was standing there in silence for some time when my silence was disturbed by a voice that felt like it was a combination of a male voice in unison with the sound of a river. It felt divine. It felt eternal.
It was immediately revealed to me where the sound was coming from. It was a humanoid figure filled with silver with its silhouette similar to mine- same height, same width. It was hovering in front of me and I realized that I was also hovering in the air as there was no ground to stand upon. It was the same in all directions. “Why are you troubled?” the voice asked. Merely by hearing these four words from it, I felt like it was the voice of many wise men.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“It’s difficult for you to understand who I am. You can say I am the soul of this universe and you may say I am your inner voice.” the figure replied.
“I don’t understand, how can one be two things at once?”
“And don’t you think it’s not strange for you to be present at two different places at once, and that too to be at two different universes? You are here and yet your body is at your home, in your bed.”
“That’s just my body there. It’s just my spirit or my ethereal body.”
“Then where shall your senses be?”
“I don’t know.” I said with some hesitation.
“Here you are sensing the soul of this universe whereas you can still hear the words of the podcast that’s being played on your mobile.”
“Yes. I am understanding a bit now. You said you are my inner voice too. This I do not understand.”
“Do not try to understand so much. Now tell me why you are troubled.”
“I am searching for someone who needs my help.” I explained. “But I cannot find him.”
“Who is this person and how do you know he needs your help?”
“I never knew him but I met him in my dream only. He told me that he needed my help.”
“What kind of help?”
“I don't know. He didn't tell me but I feel like his spirit is trapped in this universe.” Then I briefed him about all the events related to Swami and me. After which I heard him speak the words I did not expect to hear. He said - “Then what is it that bothers you?”
I became a bit angry and with some effort I managed to say in a normal tone - “Don't you understand that the mere realization of not being able to help him bothers me?”
“Why does it bother you to realize that you are failing to help someone? No one can help everyone. If you fail to help him, someone else can. Moreover it’s just your assumption that he is in some problem. If he was able to contact you earlier, he can guide you now or maybe he can help himself.”
“Maybe because I don't know the whole thing, I am more bothered. You are probably right. I should not be bothered by thinking that I'm not able to help. But if somehow I was assured that he is not suffering because of me, then I would be relaxed.”
“I can understand that it disturbs you when someone relies and you fail. But believe me, you will be able to help him when the time comes. He is no danger, at least for now.”
“How do you know?” I said, still taken aback by his words.
“I know a lot of things. In fact everything that you know. Didn't I tell you I'm your inner voice?”
“Yes, but how?”
“Don’t try to know too much. Sometimes knowing too much may not be good.”
“Ignorance is bliss.” I stated the famous quote, somewhat agreeing with him.
“Yes, exactly. But a few things should be known which you are trying to ignore.”
“What do you mean?” I asked with an urge to know what he meant.
“You know what I mean. Why do you think destiny has chosen you to aid Swami?” His question made my curiosity grow stronger.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you remember the headline of the newspaper article? Your guilty conscience hasn't left you ever since or has it? It still burdens your soul, doesn’t it?” His mention of that past memory shook me deeply from within. I have been trying to ignore this feeling but it never left me.
“What does it have to do with Swami?” I asked, even though I had guessed the answer.
“Suhasini was his daughter. Don’t you remember the newspaper article stating that she was his daughter?”
“That was not my fault.”
“Of course it wasn’t. But running away is equally sinful as committing that sin.”
“I was afraid.” I said, realizing palpitations in my heart growing stronger.
“Yes, facing the truth is difficult. That’s why bravery is valued. It requires a sacrifice and not everyone can make a sacrifice. Life has given you a second chance, use it wisely.” -His voice was calm and full of care like some elder is guiding you. He continued- “That’s why you are troubled at the realization of your inability to help. This is the problem with the human mind. They think they can escape the punishment of their own sins, but in time it all comes back to them. You humans do not learn so easily. You made the same mistake Sarthak. You could have chosen something else but you did not. And that’s why you are currently depressed.”
“I wish I hadn’t made that mistake.” I spoke more to myself than speaking to him..
“Yes. At that moment it feels so right and we don't give it a second thought if what we are doing is right or wrong. Humans learn it the hard way. What’s done is done. Don't bother yourself with that any more. Wait and things will guide you.”
I realized that he was about to go back when I stopped him and asked - “Where will I find Swami?”
“Trust in the universe and in time, the answers will reveal themselves.”
With those words, the humanoid disappeared, leaving me alone. For some time I deeply pondered on the things he said. I cried out loud “Forgive me.” I closed my eyes and kneeled down, I buried my face in my hands, thinking about the mistakes I had made.
When I opened my eyes found myself on an abandoned beach, where he stood before me.
“Are you real?” I asked.
Swami smiled. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know. Things are strange here. Difficult to comprehend.”
“Yes it is.” he said with a broad grin.
“What kind of help do you need? Are you taking some kind of revenge?”
“What?”
“About your daughter, Suhasini. I am sorry but I didn't kill her. I was just...” I was overwhelmed with the emotions, hardly able to speak anything but somehow I finished my sentence- “I was just too weak to take a stand. And believe me it’s been haunting me for months. Please forgive me. I didn’t kill her. Have you brought me here for punishment?”
“You’ll uncover everything with time. Find me and help me. I think it’s the time for your lucid dream to end.” His voice was so calm and yet so dramatic that it seemed like he did not care about anything. He could have been angry with me for I caused him to lose his daughter.
I realized in deed my dream was ending. The scenery before my eyes was slowly fading and the sound of the podcast was becoming clearer. Was this podcast so long or my dream was so brief? I found myself being pulled by an unknown force. I was pulled away from my surroundings and soon everything around me dissolved.
I realized I was back in my bed but I could not stir my body, I could not wake up. For some time my eyes remained shut despite my efforts to open them and when finally I opened my eyes and saw a demon sitting on my chest. I immediately realized I was having sleep paralysis but after some time I found out with the help of my previous knowledge of sleep paralysis that it was not usual. Sleep paralysis lasts for only one or two minutes, not more than that. I was expecting this phase to pass soon even though each second was difficult to bear. But after passing a lot of time, it did not relieve me. The demon was there, right there, sitting on my chest. I tried to talk to him, but obviously I could not speak, and he could also say nothing. The only thing I could do was to slide my eyes away, so that I would not look at him.
Then, all of a sudden, that demon went away. I noticed that my soul or my spirit, whatever it was; was not in my body but hovering over it. I turned around and saw my sleeping body and tried to enter it, but I could not. And then one thing happened. I noticed that I was not all alone there. My family was there with me- my brother, my mom, they were all there beside me. They were all worried that I was not waking up. They had been trying so much, but I was not waking up.
I was moved to see them so worried about me. I wanted to tell them I was ok, just not able to return to my body. Being trapped outside my body as a spirit I was unable to interact with the physical world. Despite my efforts, they couldn't hear me or see my struggles. Feeling helpless, they took me to the hospital. They told my family that my vitals were low and I was admitted to the hospital. Even after receiving the treatment, I was not waking up. So, they finally declared that I was in a coma, and I was put in an ICU- the same ICU where Swami was admitted.
I recalled that a similar event had occurred to Swami and now I had begun to understand what could have happened. WAS HE TRAPPED IN THE LUCID UNIVERSE? WILL I EVER BE ABLE TO RETURN TO MY BODY? Exhausted and feeling disconnected, I returned to the Lucid Universe to continue my quest to find Swami. I NEEDED TO FIND HIM. I NEEDED TO GO BACK.
6. INTERTWINED FATES
How does one mend the broken pieces together? How does one live with the weight of past mistakes? How do you keep going when the fear of falling holds you back? How does one free himself from the past? My wrongdoings, my moments of cowardice—they haunt me, they don't let me live a normal life and sometimes a part of me feels like I don't even deserve a normal life. Will I ever feel whole again? As a punishment, all these things were meant to happen to me and instead of facing those punishments, I have been trying to run away.
There was a time, I hated the world. I judged people harshly for their cowardice, for their unwillingness to extend a hand when one needs the most. It troubled my heart whenever I heard news of murder, rape, or other heinous crimes around us. What kind of monstrous world are we living in? In those moments, I would wonder—are we truly civilized? No, not at all. On the surface, we may appear so, but deep down, we’re all primitive. Back then, I thought I was different, that I stood apart, and I felt a certain pride in that. But that pride crumbled when I discovered the darkest part of myself, the truth that I was no different. I, too, became one of them. I was responsible for the death of someone simply because I failed to listen to my own conscience. I became the very coward I despised.
This changed everything in my life. Just as I once hated the world, I began to hate myself too. The conviction that I ran away when I should have stood strong has never left me. I tell people that this depression is because of a breakup, but that’s not the truth. This is the weight of my own wrongdoings, my punishment. I still can’t face my past, and carrying that burden—carrying that guilt—is almost unbearable. I can’t even tell this to a therapist because I feel there’s no solution. This is simply the consequence of my own karma.
Karma is hitting me hard for my wrongdoings. First, Aaradhya left me, then my friend Ashish suffered, and now I find myself separated from my family. I don’t even know if I’ll ever be able to go back. Even Ashish’s accident—it must have been because of me as it was clear that he was worried about me.
Yes, I’ve only told you part of the story. I haven’t revealed the whole truth. There are mistakes I’ve made—mistakes I wish I could erase from my past, but they haunt me every single day.
~~~
That day in the gaming zone, as we sat with our cold drinks and snacks, Milap cracked a few jokes. He and Ashish noticed that I wasn’t laughing. I seemed distant, caught in a world far removed from the present. They weren’t wrong in sensing it—my mind was consumed by haunting, troublesome memories, ones too stubborn to let go and far too difficult to escape.
“Sarthak, are you okay?” Ashish asked, his tone filled with genuine concern. He had always been a gentle soul, with an uncanny ability to sense even the slightest shifts in someone’s emotions. Milap also chimed in, “Yeah, you don’t seem alright. Is everything okay, bro?”
“Yes, I’m fine. It’s just that...” The words faltered on my tongue, and I couldn’t bring myself to complete the sentence. Ashish guessed what could be wrong and asked, “Are you still sad, thinking about Aaradhya?”
I nodded in agreement, but neither of them knew what was truly bothering me, and it wasn’t easy to share either. The death of Suhasini haunted me constantly. Coincidentally, my breakup happened around the same time, and everyone assumed my sadness stemmed solely from that—which was partly true.
“Well, I understand how it must be affecting you, but focus on the positive. Life has plenty to offer—you just have to wait for the right moment,” Ashish said. But if only he knew the real cause of my worry, he would understand how difficult it was for me to lift this weight off my shoulders.
Milap excused himself to take an important call, leaving Ashish and me alone. Taking the moment, Ashish asked, “Sarthak, are you hiding something?”
I was amazed at how Ashish could sense it. I had always been comfortable around him, sharing almost everything that crossed my mind. But that day, I chose otherwise. This part of me was far too difficult to share.
“No. Why?
“Sometimes you seem to be in a mild state of somnolence and sometimes your speech is also slurry, not well articulated. Most of the time you look tired. Are you taking enough sleep?”
“You are right Ashish. I don't know why I am not able to cope up. A few days I have taken two or three antidepressant tablets. That was the reason.” a part of me wished to discuss the incident related to Suhasini but couldn't muster the courage. My haunting thoughts often kept me awake at night, resulting in me being often dull and somnolent.
“I am too worried about you. Please take care of yourself.”
“Yes. I will. Thanks.”
Ashish might seem tough on the surface, but he's a soft-hearted person. Even though my problems weren't significant, they must have lingered in his mind after our conversation, distracting him and leading to the accident. I believe his concern for me played a role in the incident.
~~~
Floating in the void of the Lucid Universe, I had been pondering the past for what felt like hours. A great anxiety grew within me. As I often used to do, I began to converse with myself mentally. I recalled a similar conversation from the past, and I was transported back to the moment I had written it in my diary.
***
A PAGE FROM MY DIARY (AFTER SUHASINI’S DEATH)
It’s not even been more than two days that I experienced that void, that emptiness. It’s strange how the void comes and goes, like an uninvited guest. Yesterday, it was absent, and I almost forgot it existed. But today, it’s back, gnawing at me again. Will it be the same? Will I again experience that void? I try to think why did it create a void in me and my inner voice tells me that it was because I tried to be happy. If I feel a pain inside of me, I should experience it in full. But I chose to suppress it and this feeble yet undied pain caused that void. I ask myself “Is it then wrong to chase happiness? Why can’t I be happy like others?”
Inner voice of me laughs at me and asks “What makes you think that they are truly happy? No one in the world is truly happy. There is both sadness and happiness. That’s the way of life. If there is day, then there is night too. If there is light, there is darkness too. That’s what gives life a purpose. That’s what makes life worth living.”
“I don’t buy that. It’s just something we tell ourselves to find hope. After all, none wants to live in utter despair. But I don't live in any illusion of existentialist philosophy. I don’t understand why life is so hard.” I said.
My other self replied “For The same reason there's a villian in movies. Would you enjoy a movie without any villain? The movies where the hero faces no challenges? Negativity is something that gives purpose to life. When you overcome your challenges in the long run a beautiful story will come out and you will be proud of yourself. The negative in itself gives rise to the purpose of life.”
My first self replies to my other self “You may give meaning to the negativity through argument but I from heart can’t agree with you. I feel like I have never been happy in my life and I am jealous of those who are always happy. Why can’t I just be happy like them?”
“Feelings can be deceptive and so could be your perception of the world. Others may appear happy on the surface but inside they all are hollow, at least sometimes. Such people may give up when adversity strikes them. Ask yourself - Do you ever run away from your responsibilities? Have you quit your job when you didn't feel like continuing it? Have you ever been harsh to your friends and family and passed on your anger to them? You say you want to run away from things that bother you but here you are continuing all those things. Do you know why Sarthak? Because you never ran away from the pain that universe put you through? Yes you may have tried to suppress it but it doesn’t matter that much. You may not realize but you are light to those who are around you.”
“It’s not true. At times my sadness is written over my face and people often ask me why can't I just be happy. But how to tell them that being happy is not something that is in my control.”
“Perhaps your pain is greater because your path is different,” the voice says gently. “You’re on a path of enlightenment.”
“I don't believe in enlightenment. I believe in Arthur Camus's philosophy - ABSURDISM: Life is absurd, it has no meaning. Constructs like enlightenment are mere constructs of feeble human mind. After all they needed to believe in something to help themselves through hardships. If it all happened so that I can progress on the path of enlightenment, then what does this so-called enlightenment bring? Can she be brought back from the dead? Can her family be comforted?”
~END OF THE PAGE FROM DIARY~
In that long reasoning with inner me, I could not forgive myself and it still weighed heavily on me. That reasoning could not bring me out of my guilt and I had lost with myself.
***
After emerging from that trance and revisiting the page in my diary, I became acutely aware of the present moment and realized that I had to find swami. I wasn’t sure how long I had been lost in thought—it felt like a long time—but with every passing moment, my worries intensified. How was my family doing? Would I ever find a way back to them? But I knew that sitting idle and worrying wouldn’t lead to any answers. I had to act. I had to find Swami.
I wandered aimlessly, covering vast distances and arriving at countless unfamiliar places, yet Swami was nowhere to be found. Then, the cryptic words of that humanoid echoed in my mind and I pondered how that event, related to Suhasini, had changed my life. As I reflected, vivid images of that haunting moment resurfaced, unbidden, flashing before my eyes.
The more I pondered, the more I questioned my connection to Swami. Why had he chosen me to help him? How could he have known me so well? A part of me believed he did, but another part doubted. If he truly knew me, why had he never spoken of his daughter—Suhasini—whose death was etched into my memory as a mark of my cowardice?
These cascading thoughts overwhelmed me, and the world around me seemed to dissolve. My surroundings faded, replaced by a vivid recollection of the moment where it had all begun.
***
That late evening, I was on my way to meet Aaradhya, talking on the phone as I rode my bike. Suddenly, a strange girl stepped in front of me. I slammed on the brakes just in time, but she still stumbled and fell. Heart pounding, I parked my bike by the side of the road, ended the call, and rushed to her. She had a few scrapes and bruises.
“Are you okay?” I asked, genuinely concerned.
Her response took me by surprise: “I wish I wasn't.”
“Why would you say that?” I asked, puzzled.
“I feel lost, and life just seems so bleak.” she replied.
At that moment, I understood why she hadn’t noticed the traffic. Some might judge her for being reckless, but I couldn’t bring myself to be angry. Instead, I wondered what could have driven her to such despair.
My empathy drove me to help her in any way I could. I took her to the hospital and eventually learned the cause of her distress. She was in love with someone, but her father opposed the marriage. When she asked her lover to marry her despite their families’ objections, he refused. Now, she felt like she had no reason to live.
I couldn't help but reflect on how, as humans, we often value someone else so much that their decisions can cloud our rational thinking. I calmly discussed with her this matter and encouraged her to hold on and let go of those dreams. After her wounds were dressed, I offered to take her home, but she declined. “I’m fine,” she assured me with a faint smile. “I’ll take a cab.”
Before leaving, we exchanged numbers, and I told her to call me if she ever felt like this again. Witnessing her subtle smile I left the hospital and went to meet Aaradhya.
I pulled out my phone and realised I was running late. When I called her, she didn’t answer. After several tries, she finally picked up.
“Wow, Sarthak. You remembered! And you couldn’t even tell me you were running late?” Her irritation was evident.
“I am sorry. A girl came in front of my bike, so I dropped her to the hospital.” I explained.
“Well you could have at least informed me. Now what am I supposed to do while I wait?”
“I’ll be there soon, I promise.”
“Fine. You’ve got twenty minutes.” she said, cutting the call abruptly.
I hurried to the restaurant to meet her, half expecting to reach there on time. Luckily I reached there within the given time. It was an open roof restaurant and we often used to dine there. With so many dinings in that place, we had collected many memories. Away from the noise and hustle of the city, the restaurant offered a calming view of the city lights. I rushed to the open-roof restaurant, hoping to arrive on time for our meeting. Fortunately, I made it within the given time. We frequently dined at this restaurant, away from the city's noise and bustle, enjoying the calming view of the city lights. Over the years, we had created many memories in this place.
The atmosphere in our usual hangout spot felt different that evening. It wasn't as comfortable as it usually was, where we could chat for hours. he seemed distant and annoyed, giving short, curt responses. I knew I'd upset her, but I didn't realize it would mark the beginning of the end of our relationship. Things were shifting, leading us toward a breakup.
During our dinner, I got a call from Suhasini. I didn’t think it was wise to answer her in front of Aaradhya, so I rejected the call and quickly texted, “I’ll call you later.” She replied almost instantly, “I’m feeling depressed again. Please talk.”
I hesitated but responded, “I’m occupied right now. I’ll talk to you soon.”
Her calls came in again, and though I didn’t pick up, her persistence gnawed at me. Half of my mind was on Suhasini, and Aaradhya noticed. She leaned forward, her brows furrowed.
“What’s on your mind, Sarthak? You seem distracted.”
I scrambled for an answer. “Nothing, just thinking about an office project. I was supposed to finish it today, but I’m behind.” The words felt heavy, a lie lodged in my throat. I didn’t even know why I couldn’t tell her the truth. If only I had—things might have turned out differently.
Her eyes searched mine, and I knew she didn’t believe me. “Let me see your phone.” she said, her tone sharp but measured. I hesitated, but there was no point refusing. Reluctantly, I handed it over. Her face showed clear expressions of a contained anger. She asked in her angry voice “Who is this Suhasini? Is she from your office? Is this your ‘office project’?”
I tried to explain, keeping my voice calm. “It’s not what you think. She’s the girl who stepped in front of my bike. She’s been going through a tough time, and I just wanted to help.”
Aaradhya raised an eyebrow, her lips pressed into a thin line. “So now you’re a therapist? If she’s depressed, she should see a psychiatrist—not you. I can’t believe this.” She stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. “Goodbye, Sarthak. I’m done.”
“Aaradhya, please listen.” I got up, reaching for her arm, but she stepped back. Her eyes were a storm of anger, hurt, and something deeper—betrayal, perhaps. Without another word, she walked away.
As she drove off, I stood there for a moment, replaying everything in my head. I hadn’t meant for things to spiral like this, but I could see how it all looked to her. I called her but she rejected all calls. Finally I was heading home when my phone vibrated. Suhasini’s name lit up the screen. I hesitated, but I answered. Her voice was frantic, and I could barely make out what she was saying. Before I could respond, I felt a presence behind me.
I turned around, and there was Aaradhya. Her expression stopped me in my tracks—hurt, anger, and something else I couldn’t quite place. She must have followed me.
“So, this is what’s going on?” she said, her voice trembling. “I can’t believe I trusted you.”
“Aaradhya, wait.” I started, but she cut me off.
“No, Sarthak. I’m done. It’s over.” Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. She walked away, and I just stood there, paralysed, watching her disappear into the night.
The next day, still reeling from the breakup, I decided to grab lunch at a restaurant I liked. I needed some time to think, to clear my head. While I was eating, I got a text from Suhasini.
“Where are you?” she asked.
I replied, telling her I was at the restaurant. She texted back, “Okay, I’ll talk to you after lunch.” I didn’t think much of it. I had no idea she was planning to meet me there.
Then it happened. Chaos erupted as people started shouting, “Fire!” Smoke filled the air, and flames quickly spread through the building. My first instinct was to get out. I pushed through the crowd and made it outside, coughing as the cool air hit my lungs.
As I stood there catching my breath, I looked up at the first floor. Through the thick smoke, I thought I saw someone—a silhouette in the window. My chest tightened. I ran to the firefighters and told them.
“There’s someone up there.” I said, pointing to the window.
“Don’t worry, sir,” one of them said. “We’re checking every floor.”
I watched them go inside, my heart racing. A part of me wanted to follow them, but another part held me back. They were professionals. They knew what they were doing.
When they came back down, they said they hadn’t found anyone. It was declared that everyone was rescued. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d seen someone. My gut told me to go back, to check for myself, but I didn’t. I convinced myself it was just the smoke playing tricks on me.
The next morning, I opened the newspaper, and my stomach dropped. Suhasini’s name was in the news. She’d died in the fire. It had become clear to me, the silhouette I had seen was not my imagination but it was no one else but Suhasini.
I couldn’t breathe. I reread the article, hoping I’d misunderstood, but there it was in black and white. Suhasini was gone. It also mentioned her father, Swami, who was devastated.
Guilt washed over me in waves. Could I have done something? Should I have gone back? Those questions haunted me, and I knew they would continue to haunt me for a long time.
***
As I was revisiting those memories, tears filled my eyes. I closed my eyes, letting the flood of emotions wash over me.
When I opened them again, I gasped. Before me floated a cubicle, translucent and otherworldly, suspended in the vastness of the cosmos. Inside it was the person I had been waiting to meet: Swami.
“Sarthak, you finally found me.” He said, his voice echoing strangely in the void.
“Swami what’s this thing? What are you doing here?”
“I’ve been imprisoned here for so long.” he replied, his tone heavy with sorrow.
“By Whom? And why?”
“Myra. She imprisoned me here because I was trying to turn back the time—to bring my daughter back. She had died in a fire accident. We had argued just days before, and she had left home. I feel I didn’t show her my love and only if I had been a good father, she wouldn’t have left the home and perhaps had not died.”
I wanted to confess that Suhasini had died because of my cowardice. A part of me felt he must have known this thing about me, but before I could say anything, a deep, guttural voice interrupted.
“You shouldn’t have come here.”
The words sent a chill down my spine. I remembered these words which once were said by the soulgazer. I turned, expecting to see the Soulgazer, but it was someone—or something—else.
A demon-like figure stood before me, its gnarled, thick-skinned face twisted into a grimace. Two sharp horns jutted from its head, and fangs gleamed where teeth should have been. Without warning, it seized me, dragging me away with terrifying strength.
Swami, understanding that very less time was left, shouted- “Myra’s sapphire ring is the key. Bring it.” And in an instant I saw a wormhole opened, swirling with light and shadow. The demon hurled me through it, and in an instant, I found myself in the ICU where I was admitted.
My spirit hovered above my unconscious body and then a powerful pull dragged me back, and suddenly, I was inside myself again. I opened my eyes and discovered that I was unable to move any part of my body except my eyes. Perched on my chest was the same demon who had brought me here from the Lucid universe. A great fear arose in me and I closed my eyes to avoid the sight of that demon and soon went back to sleep. When I awoke, I was no longer in the ICU but in a private hospital ward. I came to know that I had been in a coma for one day only. My family was there surrounding me, their faces lighting up with relief as they saw me regain consciousness. It felt comforting to be back among them.
Before my discharge, I slipped away to meet Swami’s wife. I told her everything—about the cosmos, the imprisonment, and Swami’s plea. Looking her straight in the eyes, I said with unwavering resolve, “DO NOT WORRY. I AM GOING BRING HIM BACK.”
