The Naked Girl Dream

Team – Wordoholics

Chapter – 6

Click to read chapter 5 by Anunoy

 

 

It was pitch dark and an eerie quiet. I don’t know why and how I came here. Even the sounds of rustling leaves beneath my feet were as loud as a canon shot. I was twitching and rubbing my eyes vigorously but couldn’t see anything. It looked like a dense forest. And then all of a sudden from nowhere I see this massive tree, banyan or peepal, I am not sure.

Wait! What is this sound?

Is there somebody else too?

Hello? Anybody here?

No one replied.

I strained my ears harder. I hear a miffed sobbing, a woman’s probably.

I cautiously take a few steps towards the sound, a rhythmic alternating of a hiccup and a sob. There was she, sitting hunched up under that tree, her head buried in between her knees and encircled by a criss-crossing of arms. I moved in closer.

Woahh! She was NAKED.

I flung back.

What happened to her? Why is she here in this weird place?

Wait. How did I come here?

Beads of sweat trickled down my forehead. I felt parched. I rolled my tongue over my lips to get some relief. My heartbeat was pacing fast and my tightly closed fist was wet too. I had to know, something inside me pushed me to go closer. May be I wanted to see her face.

Yes. I wanted to see her face.

I got a hold of myself and took a step forward.

Go, go back, run away…No, no this time you should find out who she is. The argument continued inside my head.

Take that step Cyrus.

And then that familiar voice, “Help me, Help me”

Who are you? Who are you? I shouted

 

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Cyroo, Cyroo get up. What happened, why are you shouting?

Did you see that dream again?

Dhikra, calm down. It is just a dream.

I sat up still tightly holding on to the sheet, trying to regularize my breath, I gulped a lump.

No Maa, it is not just a dream. I have a feeling that I know her.

Maa, please help me. Tell me the truth. I have been seeing this weird dream over and over again. I somehow feel that girl…that girl (I felt choked). Shit! Why can’t I see her face? This time I came so much closer.

Oh, shut up; Maa said irritatingly. Truth? What truth? How many times have I asked you to stop watching all those CID and Crime Patrol type serials? You watch those and then get suspicious about everything, even a dream.

I have cooked your favourite breakfast. Get up and come fast. Then you have to go to your stupid college.

Maa, it is the best college in Asia, I screeched while she walked away nonchalantly.

We are a business family making soda since generations. My parents wanted me to join their family business or to put it in correct perspective, a dying business. Who buys soda anyways, especially in these times of Coco Cola and aaj kuch toofani kartey hain.

Well, all that doesn’t matter now. I took up dad’s challenge, passed the exam and that too with a scholarship.

Ha! He never had confidence in me. Well life is that of a frog in a well. He can’t think beyond his soda shop. But now nothing matters, I have proved myself. I am a law student and soon I will be this big shot lawyer.

Weekend was over. I was heading back to my college but throughout my journey I couldn’t get the thoughts of that dream out of my head.

Was it something related to my past?

Or was it a premonition?

Or I am truly gifted as Maa always says lovingly while running her fingers though my sexy, curly hairs (girls can wage a World War III to lay their hands on it). I chuckled.

Well, whatever it is I am sure Maa is surely hiding something. And now that I am a lawyer too I will find it out, whatever it takes to.

JNU gate, JNU gate; the conductor screeched over my ear and I jolted out of my thoughts.

I wanted to have a cup of hot tea and an egg parantha before heading for the class so I walked towards Ganga dhaba. A few girls passed a smile, waved a Hi and I had to be polite to revert back with a nod and a smile. How I hate all this.

I mean, I know I am the perfect combination of 3S – Sexy, smart and Super intelligent so I just have to learn to live with fanfare.

It is not the looks or the pseudo intelligence that attracts me; I am looking for that perfect snob. Yes, a girl who has a mind of her own and doesn’t require these pretenses to make me fall for her. The girls here at college are mostly simple kiddos, happy in their confused little world.

I sat on one of those stone stools under a tree and was sipping my tea while adjusting my spectacles when it began to rain. Ah! Delhi is slowly becoming like Mumbai. It rains anytime. I hate rains. Mess, puddles of water everywhere, fetid smell emanating from conglomeration of water and city garbage but at the top of the list is insane traffic jams.

Oh shit! I completely forgot about that morcha to commemorate anniversary of Nirbhaya’s death led by Professor Chenoy himself. What an irony that we call it an anniversary but haven’t we made enough mockery of it already? Such bastards are growing by leaps and bounds as we speak and just taking out a procession is not helping much. However, it is this one thing about college herd mentality which I comply by even if I don’t quite agree to it.

I will definitely need some daaru after all that slogan shouting and that too in this stupid rain. Whiskey is cheaper in Gurgaon. I will pick up some bottles on my way back from the procession. Friends, whiskey, discussions and shiny full moon from the Parthasarathy rock, just perfect!

But isn’t perfection only an illusion?

 

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It was around 11 in the night and we sneaked into the Parathasarathy forest though they have guards now to protect the place from juveniles like us but we also love challenges. Royal Stag was poured in plastic glasses and soda added to make the perfect concoction, though I prefer to drink neat on times like this. Why waste time and energy when the final motive is to simply get drunk?

As the mood set in and rings of smoke from Goldflake started sailing like mini clouds we began talking about all things weird and abnormal. From international politics to corporal punishment for rapists to regression therapy to ganja yoga and horror stories presumably real and experienced. We JNUites can discuss anything and everything under the sun.

Amidst all this regression therapy caught my attention. What if this is the solution I am looking for? What if I could see the face of that naked girl in the dream?

She is not just my figment of imagination, she is real.

Okay, I think I am drunk. Cyus Daruwalla you are quite living up to your name, I mumbled and remember hanging on my friend’s shoulder.

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Read the next chapter of the story by Depanjan.

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