The kid who beat Nadal

Source: Wikimedia Commons

Before you scroll down, I need to tell you something more about myself. I am not your average dreamer but from what I have gathered I am a ‘lucid dreamer’. What it means is I am aware of my immediate surroundings even in my sleep and these cues (mostly sounds) somehow make their way into my dreams.

With that Science out of the way, let this dream begin…

It’s 1 pm or so. I have been napping for a while but I don’t like it. I feel guilty. “How can I sleep when, look, Naren (that’s my partner), my in-laws – everybody’s been working?”… “What will they think of me?”… “Enough, Barkha. Just get up ya.”

I am trying to lift my body from the bed but my back pain is crushing. I try but fail.

Minutes later.

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Amma enters the room to collect her prayer books for her Skype class. FYI, we are in the middle of Lockdown 2.0. She checks on me from a distance if I’ve been sleeping okay. The problem is, I am aware she’s looking over me and that’s making me uneasy. “What will she be thinking of me?” my brain flips again. Guilt aside, I am also feeling stupid. Ermm… because I am sleeping like a cat. Which means, you can spot my bum before you spot my head because it’s buried inside my curled-up body. Yes, I am cute 🙂

Amma’s got her books and she’s leaving the room now. “Phew! Okay, I will pakka get up in 2 minutes,” I promise myself.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

“What’s that sound coming from the left side?” Oh noooo! Appa and Nishant (my brother-in-law) are in the bathroom looking for attachments for the vacuum cleaner. “What will they be thinking of me? Not only I am jobless but I don’t even help with the chores.” I sense Appa is looking at me, so I shut my eyes tight and let the moment of shame pass.

Thank goodness. They are leaving the room.

“Hi Barkha, how are you doing?” comes a question at me from the left side. “This doesn’t sound like Appa or Nishant,” I conclude quickly.

I turn to face the man with that cheerful voice that’s familiar too. “What?! Sridhar Chitappa. What is he doing here? When did he come home? Nobody told me,” my brain goes on an overdrive again. But before I can ask these questions for real, Chitappa leaves the room.

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Embarrassed and upset enough, I leap out of the bed. Only to run into another visitor. She’s standing at the door and looks like Priya Chitti (Chitappa’s wife). But no, it’s not her.

No ‘hi, hello’, the woman just lunges forward. “But why is she growing taller and bigger as she’s coming closer?” Two seconds later, she’s in front of me, dressed garishly, standing on stilts.

By Unuaiga – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, Wikimedia Commons

“Barkha, I have a story for you to write. Do you want to discuss?”, she asks excitedly, her eyes dancing. “Of course,” I say, hoping that the trespasser has a scoop for me.

We go to the drawing room. But wait! It isn’t my in-laws house. It’s smaller, with old-school sofas. “Where am I?” And… “What are so many people doing in here?” There’s my father and his colleagues – one known, rest strangers – chatting loudly over snacks as if having a reunion. I leave the party to them and sit down on the adjacent sofa with my visitor.

But the main door is distracting me. It’s wide open and mysteriously inviting. So without any ado, I abort the meeting and step outside with Naren.

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“Oh, it’s beautiful,” I exclaim at the sight of the flowery gardens and stoned pathways. I am no longer at my in-laws place, that I can confirm – because they stay in a high-rise, with ochre tiles filling up their corridor.

I look to my right. My mamma is standing outside the neighbouring house – waiting for someone, clutching something, twisting the pallu of her saree around her fingers anxiously. “Mamma, what are you doing here?” I call out to her. She gets startled and turns her face away. “Mamma, what are you doing?” I shout louder. No response!

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Naren and I get down from the porch hurriedly to talk to her and understand what the matter is. Seeing our advances, mamma tries to flee the scene, jaunting down into the thick woods. But we catch up. She is looking more scared than before and myself, more confused. “Why is she acting as if we’ve caught her red-handed, doing something wrong?”… “What’s this log of wood, this bat, she’s holding so dearly?”… “And why is she looking younger?”

“Mamma, what’s this thing in your hands?” I snap at her. My plea goes unheard. Or maybe not. She’s pointing her finger further down into the woods.

We start following her till she stops before a fridge. A rusty, old and forgotten fridge in the middle of nowhere. Let that sink in!

“But what has this bat got to do with the fridge?” I ask mamma, my patience wearing thin. Radio silence follows for a second or two and then, my mamma opens the fridge.

I freak out. I think I am going to faint. There’s a boy, young boy sitting in there.

“Who the hell is he, mamma? What is he doing here?” I am out of my mind. I want to shout but I can’t because no, nobody should walk in on us.

“He’s D’Mello,” mamma answers matter-of-factly. She looks oddly cool at the moment.

“D’Mello? What D’Mello?! Who is he?” I really want this to end.

“You don’t know, D’Mello?” Naren asks me. He’s so shocked that his eyes might pop out.

“No. Why? Why should I?” I say.

Mamma joins him in the probe, “You don’t know, D’Mello?”

“No. Who the hell is he?” I am losing it now.

“He’s the kid who beat Rafael Nadal!” Naren shuts the case for me.

“Really?!! When?!” I shoot back.

“Last December. Don’t you know that?” he is shocked at my lack of sports knowledge.

“Okay, fine. Maybe. I don’t know,” I shrug it off, like what’s the big deal?

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What next?

How did the boy get inside the fridge?

How did the fridge get into the woods?

How did my mamma find the boy inside the fridge in the woods?

Source: Pixabay

Pardon me, I have no answers. I woke up before I could launch an investigation. Yes, I am terribly SORRY.

But hey! I can’t leave you hanging in in the woods. So why don’t you write the ending of the dream as you’d imagine and share it in the comments/contribute section? I shall add the best entry to the post. Looking forward!