In Your Dreams

On a summer night, I fell asleep early. On a usual hot, gloomy night, the air conditioner was in full swing. I was sleeping happily when I heard my father shout my name

 "Pinky... @@@@" and said something inaudible.

 I attempted to understand what he was saying in my sleepy unconscious mind, but he repeated himself.

 I awoke sweating heavily next to my sleeping, heavily snoring hubby. I unlocked my phone to check the time, and it was only 12:56.

 My father's voice called my name again, but the sound of blubbering rang in my ears. For a split second, I thought it was real; the next, I thought my husband's snoring was echoing some meaningless words in my ears. But then I heard the calling and blubbering again.

 This time, I was certain it was coming from outside. I cautiously opened the window to see if anyone was outside, but there was no one.

I tried to sleep, supposing it was one of my millions of wired dreams.

The next morning, while having breakfast, I felt a sharp pain in my stomach and dashed to the restroom, leaving my husband bewildered.

There was only intense agony in my tummy, no feces, and I was sweating profusely. I couldn't sit on the toilet and felt like fainting, so I rushed outside and collapsed on the bed, unable to fathom what was happening to me. My spouse Shyam hurried to me and began frantically rubbing my hands and feet. My mouth had dried up, and he realized this and shoved a glass of water into my mouth. After ten minutes, I felt fine. But we decided to go to the closest clinic for a checkup.

We called the office and requested a half-day leave. After I waited for a long time in line for the doctor's consultation, he sent me to a lengthy list of tests that required more waiting time.

While waiting for a CT scan, I noticed an elderly lady on a stretcher impatiently waiting in front of me, with her daughter standing nearby.

Just before entering the CT scan room, the old mother grabbed her daughter's hand and exclaimed "Pinky! I may not make it out of the room alive. You should know that I keep the key to my locker buried in my pillow."

"Short up, Maa! You're going for a CT scan. Why are you so nervous?" The daughter snapped.

"The key in my pillow." The elderly woman muttered again.

My father's blubbering in my dream became clear: "Key on my bed."

I was both stunned and startled by the turn of events. Upon entering the CT

Scanner, I was only thinking about my father. He had a sudden cardiac arrest a year ago.

He collapsed in the middle of the night and did not recover. He died during his coma. I spoke with him for the last time that night, soon after dinner, to discuss the planning of our annual family summer trip to Puri Jagannath. Our plan was still incomplete as a result of his sudden death.

After reviewing all of the findings, the doctor concluded that my problem was a sudden panic episode with no serious complications if any at all. I decided to take the entire day off, so Shyam dropped me off at my mother's and departed for work.

My mother was quite concerned about me. After lunch, I fell asleep next to her, resting my head on the pillow where my father used to sleep. In a daze, I walked to my father's study table in the corner of the bedroom. He left behind some books, a pen stands with blue, black, and red pens, a paper cutter, and a small money plant on a glass bottle. I pulled the table's drawer. No, it did not come out; it was locked. I dashed to the kitchen to see my mother.

" Maa, Papa's study table drawer does not open. Where did you keep the keys?"

She gave me a cup of tea and added, "I don't know dear, your father has kept it somewhere." She spoke lightly.

"Haven't you had it? I inquired in a shocked tone.

She said, "No."

" It'll be on his table somewhere. I haven't looked for it. There's nothing in it. Just a few pieces of old paper. Nothing important." She reassured me.

We sat down at the dining table, sipping hot tea.

"No, Maa; I need to find the key. I felt like Papa was instructing me to look for a key on the bed last night while I was sleeping." I spoke to Maa.

" What! Why haven't you told me that?

She raced inside before I realized. She had already removed the items off the bed.

"See, it is not here." She said with disappointment.

I examined intently between the wooden planks. My mother was correct; nothing was there.

"Help me arrange the bed again." Mother spoke.

I proceeded to take up the bed sheet and noticed something sparkling in the lower left corner of the bed. I sat down and slid my hand beneath the bed; Maa was hovering over me, curious. I touched a metal object and pushed upward. Maa stood up on the bed and pulled the small metallic pin-like object with a small black thread connected.

"Drawer key," Maa informed.

We left the bed as was and went to open the drawer.

I opened the drawer and found a few old news clippings, letters, and nothing of value.

"See, I told you so," Maa explained.

"We received the important drawer key. Papa asked us to open it." I whispered, tears running down my face.

Maa hugged me, and we both grieved as we remembered Papa, comforting each other.

"Let's arrange the bed," I told Maa.

I returned all of the papers to the drawer, and my fingertips felt something in the drawer board. I took out the papers again. I reached inside the drawer with both hands and drew out a small wooden plank. There was a yellow envelope below it. Maa and I were shocked to discover a hidden chamber in the drawer.

I took it out and opened the envelope. It contained a State Bank of India passbook in my name, which had been opened in September 1992, one month after I was born. I fanatically turned the pages, and there was a steady deposit of money, with the most recent deposit occurring the day before his last day. The total amount added up to three core rupees.

"He had never told me about this," Maa exclaimed in amazement.

"He told me Maa, he told me." I couldn't believe my father had entered my dream to reveal this truth. I felt immensely blessed since my father was with me although we weren't physically close.