Think Twice When You Dream Bad

I woke up with a jolt.

I was sweating profusely. I calmed myself by reminding that it was just a dream. A really bad dream though. I got up from the bed but again sat down for a while. I was totally confused and literally scared. I tried to comprehend all the horrible and disturbing things I was dreaming of lately.

Why the hell am I dreaming of all this?

I continued to stress my mind until my head started to feel heavy.

I grabbed my bottle, from the table next to my bed and as I drank water, I realized my roommates had already left for the college.

‘Oh Damn!' I thought, ‘I am still at my hostel and the project submissions might have started!’.

Hurriedly, I got ready and rushed for my class.

I am Sumi Ghosh and this is my story.

I was a sincere student and was studying in the class during the third year of engineering. Being the only daughter of my parents, staying in a hostel away from my hometown, made my overprotective parents even more concerned.

It was during my final exams when I started dreaming about some unpleasant and absurd scenes. The reoccurring dreams used to leave me demented and frightened. Having been raised up in an educated, modern family, I never heard or saw anything of that I was dreaming. Neither did I ever read books or watch any movie that would have links to the dream.

I kept ignoring the dreams thinking that it is due to the exam pressure but little did I know that this was not merely a bad dream. It was something more serious in reality and far beyond my understanding.

That day, I had a lot to face. It seemed like the dreams were not enough to bother me. Late submissions of my projects, brain-wracking practicals and lectures, long seminars and never-ending syllabus had started to take a toll on my mind.

I returned to the hostel totally exhausted. My roomie Deepa, who was also my best friend sensed my weariness. She gave me a cup of coffee and asked, “What is wrong Sumi? I am observing from past two weeks, you seem to be worried all the time. Are the exams bothering you or there is something else?”

“Not really. I mean, I am okay”, I tried to smile reassuringly.

“Sumi, don’t lie. I try to wake you up every day before leaving for the college. But every time I place my hand on your head, it feels like you are having a fever. Therefore, I let you sleep. Let us visit a doctor" , Deepa insisted.

I sighed and thought I should tell her about the dreams. I said, “ I am fine dear. You see, the exams are approaching, submissions are at its peak and the next year will be our placements. All these factors are intimidating, but....but the dreams are the ones which are really freaking me out.”

**************************************************

“What dreams?”, asked Deepa.

I continued to explain to her, “ I see weird things these days. It has been more than a week now. Like huge bells ringing, I am walking towards a huge tree, a spooky place that I don’t know. At times I see a wedding mandap, bridal saree, green bangles and hear mantras being chanted. The worst was the one that I dreamt today. It was gruesome.”

I looked at Deepa, she was waiting for me to tell further.

So I continued, “Today I woke up seeing a goat being sacrificed. And once its head fell apart from its body, its blood is used for some rituals. And I saw myself, who is performing the rituals.”

As I told her this, I was shaking from within with disgust. Deepa wrapped her arms around me. I could see her equally shocked. I asked her, “Why do you think I am dreaming about all these Deepa? It is because of stress? Or is the subconscious mind is trying to give me signals of some danger?”

“I am not sure dear but listen, I am with you. I understand this is not a joke to be ignored, but we have to be strong and not scared, okay? I have heard if the bad dreams are bothering, one should try to understand the reason and not forget it. Let me jot down your dreams in my journal.” Deepa said to me positively.

Five days passed by, but the ghastly dreams did not stop. In fact, it grew even more unpleasing. Deepa on the other hand, was maintaining a note of my dreams. Every morning, after I woke up, Deepa, asked me minute details about the dreams. She kept saying that my dreams were showing a pattern. She insisted me to think about it more and tell her so that she could connect the dots.

But as I used to get exhausted thinking about it, I did not pay much heed to her.

I thought it was high time and I should speak to my parents. When I told them everything, they decided to leave the hometown the very next day to see me.

**************************************************

It was the sixth night.

By then, I had become so vulnerable that falling asleep was a task for me. Every night while I lied on my bed, I would be afraid to close my eyes.

“Don’t stress yourself much babe,” Deepa consoled me, while I was crying at the window of our hostel room.

Exams were approaching and I was not at all prepared due to the lack of sleep, I felt tired all the time. The ugly dreams were not allowing me to concentrate on studies.

“Sumi, my dear, in order get some positivity, let us go to the Mandir near to our hostel today, what say?”, Deepa asked. I felt a desperate need of blessings and therefore I agreed.

We went to the mandir and spent some time there. It was refreshing as well as relaxing. I felt a bit lighter. As we were exiting the mandir, a Panditji, dressed in a white kurta-pajama came to us. He looked like a calm and composed person. While he offered us flowers and Prasad both of us noticed a circular mark on his right hand. Perhaps he had some injuries, we thought. He said he was serving the mandir for a long time and asked about our whereabouts.

We had a casual talk with him and were about to leave, but Panditji asked us to wait.

He looked at me and asked, “You looked worried beta, are you suffering from any anxiety?”

I and Deepa shared a glance of surprise. We wondered how did he sense that?

“No, nothing of that sort.” , I lied to him to avoid the discomfort of narrating the same disturbing visions again.

“I have a sweet daughter, just like you. I can sense your worries,” lightly patting on my shoulder he continued, “Let me tie this ‘Dhaga’ around your wrist dear, it will give you strength and will help fasten the process . Within a week's time you will feel better, and do not be afraid, Okay?”

I looked at the ‘Dhaga’ (string) tied on my left hand, it was black in color. I thought the Panditji was considerate and thanked him for the caring gesture and left for the Hostel.

While we were walking towards the hostel, I asked Deepa, “What did Panditji mean by the ‘process’?”. Deepa shrugged with a ‘no idea’ expression. We reached the hostel, had the dinner and as soon as we were on our beds, we fell asleep.

That night, I dreamt again.

I saw myself dressed in the same bridal wear, that I was seeing from the past few weeks. It seemed to be like it was my wedding night but I had no expression of happiness, excitement or sadness on my face. I looked blank. I was decked up for marriage.

Some familiar voice asked me to follow him. I was walking effortlessly towards the same mandap and the same tree. Mantras were being chanted. I could see a huge tree in front of the Mandap. I was asked by the same voice to sit down on the mandap. It was clear that I was getting married. The ‘yagna’ had started and then there was a sudden blankness.

**************************************************

The next day, I woke up with excruciating pain in my head and found Deepa sitting next to me.

I gathered my vision and looked around. It did not seem like our hostel room. I asked Deepa, “Hey, is this a hospital? Why is there so much pain Deepa? What happened to me?”

Deepa held my hand in hers and said, “You fell down the stairs last night. You have hurt yourself Sumi. You have got injuries on your back and forehead. In fact, you were unconscious until the maid found you lying on the stairs and alarmed us in the early morning.”

I was taken aback to hear this. Was I sleep-walking? But I never sleep-walked in my life before. I also clearly remembered for not having woken up last night; at least I had not walked up to the stairs of the hostel which was 4 rooms away from ours.

Deepa broke my pensiveness and said, “Sumi, read this diary carefully. This diary has all the accounts of your bad dreams. And you will realize there is a progression made every day in your dream plot.”

After reading the diary and recollecting what I saw last night, both of us were sure about one thing:

The dream was more than just a dream. If it had the power to make me walk, it was worse than we were anticipating.

We were discussing more regarding it. In a while, we got an update that my parents were soon arriving at the hospital along with the warden of our Hostel. When my parents reached my room, they heaved a sigh of relief and hugged me tightly.

My father started to show his disappointment that I was not able to handle exam pressure. My mother calmed him down and asked him to talk to the doctor.

Without much ado, I and Deepa narrated the entire episode to my parents and the warden of the hostel.

My mother asked me about the dhaga on my wrist. I told her that it was given by a Panditji from the Mandir near our hostel.

“Sumi”, my mother asked, “did you ever sleep-walk before the Panditji tied the Dhaga on your hand?”

“No mom, never,” I replied.

The warden intervened, “Wait a moment, which Panditji are you girls referring to? The Mandir near the Hostel had a Panditji some years back. But the locals drove him away from the city as it is believed that he was involved in some suspicious rituals and occult practices. He had sacrificed his daughter and wife for the same rituals. Currently, there isn’t any pandit assigned to the Mandir, the locals themselves carry out the Puja and look after the Mandir.”

I and Deepa were struck with horror.

We both had spoken to him and he said he was the in charge of the Mandir.

He even had mentioned some ‘process’. Were the process and my recurring bad dream, the same?

We had been scared like hell. We further narrated every single minute details to my mother and the warden, while my father was looking for the doctor outside the room.

After listening to everything my mother panicked and said, “Remove this dhaga at once! Why the hell did you even wear it? This black string might have been spelled. It has the power to make you do things without you knowing.”

“But why would the Pandit Ji do so? I mean, what would he get out of harming me?” I was curious to know.

“I know a lady from the neighborhood who knows all about the Pandit. She is the Pandit’s sister in law. Maybe she can be of some help.” suggested the warden and hurried out my room in the hospital to call the lady.

Meanwhile, my mother started to untie the black dhaga from my wrist. I looked at my father, I could see him talk impatiently with the doctor outside my room. I wondered if he will ever believe in what was happening to me.

Deepa was still reading through the diary as if she knew that something from the diary would be of definite help.

**************************************************

“Sumi, do not fall asleep!”, Deepa shook me hard when I was about to fall asleep.

It was late in the evening and the warden had still not returned. We had tried calling her several time but her phone was not reachable.

My Parents were getting anxious and had lodged a complaint at the police station about the Pandit. My father reluctantly agreed to do so.

I had never thought in my wildest thought that someone could actually make me do stuff in my dreams.

My eyes were getting heavy and felt very tired. My body wanted to sleep but my mind alerted me nevertheless.

“You just can not fall asleep tonight Sumi,” Deepa warned me yet again. She had been doing so for a long time.

“What rubbish is this! If Sumi does not sleep she will fall ill. She needs rest, why don't you ladies understand? What the hell will happen to her if she sleeps anyway?” asked my father.

He had got very angry by this time.

“Uncle, if Sumi sleeps, she will get married. And we don’t know what would happen then.” Deepa answered in a tensed voice.

My parents and I were shocked to hear what she had said.

“How can you say that so confidently Deepa?” I asked her in disbelief.

Deepa started to explain, “I have tracked Sumi's dream records and have analyzed that there is a progression every time she dreams. Sumi, your last dream ended while you were getting married. So if you sleep today, you might dream about getting married completely. Now we do not know whom are you getting married to. As far as I have researched and understood, some occult practitioners do such voodoo so that they succeed in their mission without getting themselves involved or harmed. ”

Just then the door of my hospital ward opened. We saw a police inspector, the warden and an unknown lady walking in the room.

**************************************************

It was 10 pm at the night and I was still trying my best to be awake on the hospital bed.

Deepa was sitting next to me holding my hand and my parents were standing near my bed. We all were looking at the police and the warden with a mixed feeling of hope and worry.

My parents requested them to sit down and asked about the updates.

The warden introduced us to the lady, the Pandit’s sister-in-law. The warden then told us that the lady knew everything about the Pandit and how the Pandit had tricked his wife and daughter along with other girls in the locality.

The lady started to narrate everything, “That man is a psycho. The so-called Pandit has killed my sister and my niece. He is insane and believes in a spirit residing on the banyan tree in the backyard of his house. He keeps sacrificing animals and even humans to please the spirit. He preys on the innocent girls and tries to hypnotize them. The girls don’t understand what happens with them, but once he marries a girl to the Banyan tree, the girl automatically walks up to the tree on her own, thus making it easy for the Pandit to sacrifice her.

Sumi, you have taken a wise decision of telling everyone about your dream. By doing so you have lessened the Pandit’s power on you.”

“But what next? What can be done now? My daughter can’t sleep and she is growing weaker!” , my mother asked them worriedly.

“Don’t worry Mrs.Ghosh,” said the Police inspector and continued, “We have arrested the Pandit and have put him behind the bars. He is being looked after a team of psychologists and his activities are under control. This case has been booked under the relevant sections and I assure appropriate actions would be taken against him.”

“And what about the Banyan tree? What if there is something really eerie out there?”, asked the genius Deepa.

“Why do you think we took so long to come here, dear?”, asked the warden. “ With the help of the police, we have sealed the Pandit’s house. When we found the Banyan Tree there, we felt the need to pacify the environment that the Pandit had disrupted with his deeds. Hence we carried out a Havan out there along with a “Shanti” Pujan. The rest is being taken care of by the locals. Nothing can harm our Sumi now”.

My father was filled with rage to hear about the Pandit. He thanked the Police, the warden and the lady for all the help and added “Inspector, I would request to take extreme actions on the Pandit. I would go to the court and make sure he is given a life sentence, as he has not only tried to harm my daughter but has also murdered his own wife and daughter.” They continued they conversation and walked out of the room.

I was way too tired to utter a word but felt utterly relieved. All I could hear was my parents speaking loudly, Deepa giving her inputs from time to time and the warden and the lady elucidating things.

I could connect all the dots. I could comprehend why I dreamt bad and what they meant. Walking towards the mandap, sacrificing of a goat, bridal wear, and the huge tree, everything made sense.

Nonetheless, having known the fact that I was safe, I don’t remember when I fell asleep.

I was finally going to get the peaceful sleep which I had been missing from so long; also with a hope that I wont dream bad again.