SAPNE SAJJAN KE

In explaining events in our lives we often talk about fate/destiny. Is it short-hand for something far more complex? In this love story, Simran discovers that things often don't turn out as you wanted or expected and that dreams may not be just dreams.

SAPNE SAJJAN KE

My engagement party attended by close family and friends had gone on till 10 o'clock at night. Everything had gone without a hitch. That evening, to me everything seemed right with the world. I went to bed exceptionally happy but tired. My last thought as I drifted off to sleep was of Vishal, the man who had turned my life around and was soon to become my husband.

As morning tugged me towards consciousness the next day, I had an ominous sense that something wasn't quite right. Was it my imagination or was the bed bigger and softer? When I opened my eyes the room was partially lit by a small upward facing light above a mirror and writing table on one side of the spacious room. Through bleary eyes I could see that I was definitely not in my own bedroom. Even the bedsheets were not the colour they should have been. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and then looked more carefully at my surroundings. The ceiling was high, and the dimensions of the place much were larger than I was familiar with. The curtains to a large high window were closed and the walls had a few tasteful framed pictures. It looked like a hotel room and a rather up-market one at that with its alcove containing a seating area complemented by a coffee table. There was a generous bouquet of red roses on the table. I was clearly dreaming. It's probably happened to all of us at some time or other. We've been in a dream and had the presence of mind to know that it's not real. I was very aware that I was really only dreaming the whole scenario. I think that's the main reason why I wasn't panicked by what I saw around me. I decided to enjoy my dream. Given the plush room, it might turn out to be a very enjoyable dream.

As I was checking out the spacious bathroom I noticed myself in the mirror above the wash basin. While I was still me, I did take in that I was wearing a rather expensive looking and very sexy neglige that wasn't exactly everyday wear. I couldn't miss the fact that the bathroom contained two toothbrushes and a man's shaving kit. Oh-oh. Instinctively I glanced down at my left hand. I was wearing a wedding ring! Quickly I rationalised it by telling myself I was dreaming of the future where I was married and on holiday with Vishal. Maybe we were on our honeymoon. That would make sense. Of course thoughts of being on holiday with Vishal made me wonder where my dream husband was. I decided to put that thought on hold while I showered and got dressed. I would track down my missing husband after that. This could turn out to be fun, living the dream I mean.

When I had finished showering, I came into the bedroom with a large fluffy white towel wrapped around me and my long bedraggled hair still partially wet. Time to draw back the curtains to let in the natural daylight. Besides, I was curious as to where we were and what the view outside was like. Harsh sunlight poured into the room momentarily dazzling me. The window was about three floors high and looked out onto lush green trees, shrubs and tended flower beds. Instinctively I knew I was not in the USA anymore. Immediate below the window was a swimming pool populated by mostly young adults, nearly all of them familiarly Indian in appearance with only a few Europeans. That and the greenery suggested I was in Goa or perhaps further south somewhere in India. I had always wanted to holiday in Goa and Vishal knew that. Now it appeared I was actually living that dream with my husband - well, my husband-to-be from my conscious perspective. I scanned the wet bodies enjoying the pool or relaxing on their lounge chairs in the hope of spotting Vishal.

When my eyes settled on a tall and fit looking young man, I was startled by his familiar appearance. Apart from the addition of a moustache, the man bore an uncanny resemblance to Dhruv. At first I put it down to mere coincidence. Then I changed my mind. Again, I put it all down to it being dream. What else could it be given that Dhruv, my former fiance had been killed in a freak car accident about 18 months ago? While certain in my own mind that I was dreaming, I couldn't fathom why Dhruv of all people should feature in my dream. Was my subconscious telling me something by conjuring up Dhruv when only yesterday I had become engaged to Vishal? If the man by the pool was Dhruv, perhaps it was my mind telling me not to feel dissonant or guilty about being engaged to Vishal. This must be my mind's way of telling me that even Dhruv would accept that I was now in love with Vishal. Why Dhruv should be at the hotel where Vishal and I were honeymooning didn't make much sense but I dismissed the matter because everyone knows that dreams don't totally make sense and are often bizarre, even inexplicable.

Dhruv and Vishal had been best buddies when I first got to know them at Stanford University Business School. All three of us had hung out together a great deal of the time. Both of them were good-looking, decent guys and fun to hang out with. Both had their share of female admirers. Don't ask me why because I can't give a specific reason, but I soon gravitated towards Dhruv more than Vishal. To cut a long story short, we became romantically involved. Up until then, there had been an unspoken and friendly rivalry between the two buddies for my attention. When it became clear I was in love with Dhruv, Vishal accepted my decision without rancour. While giving us some space, he continued to be best of friends with us both and the three of us still got together regularly. Not long after graduation, Dhruv's parents were visiting mine to acknowledge and formalise the romance between Dhruv and I.

To say I was devastated by the sudden death of Dhruv would be an understatement. That blow rendered me an emotional wreck. I couldn't see any way forward and there was certainly no going back. Psychologically I was inside a deep dark pit and there was no way out. It wasn't like losing someone due to some illness. That takes time, even if it is only a few days. During that time the mind has time to consider possibilities and adjusts more easily to the news of the death of a loved one, although coming to terms with such news is never easy. In the case of Dhruv, one minute he'd been alive, the next minute he was gone. I had loved him deeply enough to want to marry him. A freak car accident had been wrecked my hopes for the future. At the time it happened, I had felt forlorn and rudderless.

Vishal too had been overwhelmed by the loss of his best friend. In a way he had understood my loss better than my parents had. If it hadn't been for Vishal's emotional support I don't think I could have come to terms with the tragedy that befell me so early in my life. Vishal had always there for me, day or night. He hadn't been the sort of guy to object to me rambling on, or crying about Dhruv. Altogether we spent a lot of time together, emotionally supporting each other and coming to terms with the loss of Dhruv. Thinking back on it, I expect it had been inevitable that Vishal and I would be drawn closer together by the tragedy. That's not to say we had anticipated such a development but when it happened we didn't run from it. However it did take a little more time before Vishal decided to articulate what we had both been feeling but too embarrassed to admit to each other openly. I recall Vishal saying he couldn't pretend any more that we were mere friends. He confessed he'd fallen in love with me. I'm glad he'd said it because I doubt I would have had the courage to admit my feelings for him if he hadn't made the first move. That discussion about our feelings for each other marked a turning point in our lives. It also helped to put Dhruv's demise into perspective. Both of us found some sort of closure. Furthermore Vishal and I recognised we needed to get on with our lives and that included finding a suitable soul mate and in due course getting married.

My parents were very supportive of the idea that we wanted to get married. They had known Vishal since we'd been at university together. So it wasn't as if he was an unknown quantity to Mom and Dad. Besides, they were desperate to fulfil their responsibility of seeing me married. They were keenly aware that on account of what had happened to Dhruv, I would only agree to marriage when I felt ready. Now at last I was ready to take the big step.

Since to me, it had only been yesterday, I remembered very clearly their happy expressions when I was officially engaged to Vishal. Vishal's parents knew me well too and had approved of their son's choice of future wife and their new bahu. Family and friends were pleased for me that I had found myself a suitable partner and would soon settle into the routines of married life. The decision sort of marked my transition from young adult to proper and responsible adult.

As I dried my hair I considered why I was having this dream. Again, I wrestled with why Dhruv was in my dream, and what role he had in it. By the time I'd finished drying my hair and dressed I still hadn't resolved these matters. While I was certain I was dreaming I couldn't wait to share this Indian holiday with Vishal.

I had just finished putting on my makeup and was admiring myself in the mirror - after all a girl's got to look good for her new husband - when there was a knock on the door. Excitement surged through me and I rushed to open the door to greet my husband.

When I saw the man from the swimming pool, dressed in a bathrobe standing before me, my jaw dropped open in shock and surprise. It's not that he just looked like Dhruv - he was Dhruv. Still, a part of my brain refused to accept it. What am I supposed to say or do in such a situation? I just stood gawking at him, disbelievingly.

"What's up, babe? You look as if you've seen a ghost."

The voice was unmistakeably that of Dhruv. He had called me babe as he used to do when we became romantically involved. Moustache or not, it was rapidly becoming clear that Dhruv might be the person sharing the room with me. Hai Bhagwaan. I'm married to Dhruv!

"Well, are you going to keep your husband standing here all day or are you going to let me in?"

Instinctively I said "No!"

It didn't feel right to let him in because I knew with certainty that I was engaged to Vishal. That had happened only last night.

"Simran, will you quit fooling around and let me in. I need to wash the chlorine out of my hair and have a proper shower."

"But..."

My voice trailed off because I couldn't express my thoughts about letting someone no longer in my life act as my husband. Besides, I was in love with Vishal.

"But what?"

The words came out of my mouth before I could stop myself or consider the consequences of my comment. "But you died in the accident."

"Simran, that's not funny and in very bad taste."

I just didn't know when to stop.

"You were killed in that car accident on the approach to the Bay Bridge."

"Sounds to me that you want me dead."

"No. It's not like that," I hurriedly tried to explain. "I don't want you dead, but I was at your funeral."

"Simran! Hadd bhi hoti heh!" he said angrily. "We're on our honeymoon and you seem to regret the fact I survived the car accident with two broken legs and a set of busted ribs."

"No, I didn't mean it like that..."

I was desperately willing myself to wake up. This dream of mine was rapidly tarnishing. The realisation that I might not wake up soon made me panicky. Perhaps in the meantime I needed to be more circumspect in what I said or did.

"Then how exactly did you mean it?"

Instead of replying I just looked sheepish and opened the door wider and made way for Dhruv to come in. The scowl on his face as he entered the room made me realise I had to do something more.

"Look, I'm sorry Dhruv. I over-stepped the mark. I don't want us arguing while on holiday."

His scowl changed quickly to a mischievous grin. "It's going to take more than an apology to set things right, babe."

When I looked at him in puzzlement, he pouted and then pointed to his lips with his forefinger. It was clear he was unlikely to settle for anything short of a kiss on the lips. I felt a bit apprehensive. It had been a long time since I had kissed Dhruv, and at this moment I was very conscious of the fact that I loved Vishal. I was engaged to Vishal. The full implications of being on honeymoon with Dhruv made me feel decidedly queasy.

When I didn't respond in any way to him, Dhruv repeated the kissing gesture.

I shook my head indicating a clear no.

"Oh, I get it. You want a quickie, instead," was his lewd response.

"I most certainly don't," I told him firmly and then went on to accuse him of being besharam.

He laughed it off saying, "That's not what you said yesterday morning - or last night. Then it was a case of, more more!"

I was both aghast and embarrassed on hearing that and tried my best not to let it show. I told myself I was no longer in love with Dhruv. Even though it was a dream I couldn't help wondering why I had behaved that way when I was engaged to Vishal. Why couldn't I remember making love to Dhruv, if it had really happened? Yet I had no reason to disbelieve Dhruv. In this scenario I was married to Dhruv and on my honeymoon. This dream was beginning to become decidedly unsettling.

I heard myself telling him he was being crude and if he continued in that vein, he would be sleeping alone tonight.

He laughed that off too.

Standing there in the middle of the room he took off his bathrobe and threw it on the bed. I only became alarmed when he went to remove his wet swimming trunks.

"What on earth are you doing?"

"What d'you think? Getting out of these wet trunks."

"Can't you do that in the bathroom?" I suggested averting my eyes due to my embarrassment.

"You're not going all coy and Indian on me, are you?" he mocked. "We're married for God's sake!"

"There's a time and place for everything," I lied to cover up my behaviour.

"And babe that time and place is when a newly married couple are on their honeymoon. Tell you what. I'll spare your blushes now if you promise to be as passionate in bed tonight as you were yesterday."

Thankfully he didn't wait for a response. He wandered off to the bathroom with a big grin on his face. Just as well. I wouldn't have known how to respond to what he said. Before he closed the door behind him he turned round to me and added, "While I'm showering why don't you call room service and order us both some breakfast? I'm famished. After breakfast, we'll take a trip into the capital, Panjim."

For a few minutes I just stood there. I couldn't fully get my head round what was happening. It was as if I had begun watching a movie starting mid-way through. I was still trying to understand the characters in the cast and diagnose their motivations for their behaviours. I desperately wanted this dream to just end so that I would wake up in the safety of my own bed in San Francisco with all its familiarly comforting surroundings. If this really was a dream, I couldn't fathom how or why I retained all my memories of what had happened after Dhruv's accident. How could I continue to remember I was engaged to Vishal? Confusingly enough, this situation I found myself in felt both real and a dream. It was as if I really was living an alternate life - one I had wanted when I had been involved with Dhruv. I didn't want that anymore. That only served to confirm I was dreaming. This was a figment of my imagination. And yet, unlike being in a dream I wasn't totally immersed within it. I retained too much detailed information about the real and waking world. The odd thing was, I was just too conscious of it being a dream. That didn't seem right either.

All that analysing only gave me a headache so I quit and ordered breakfast as Dhruv had suggested.

In the end, the rest of the day went very well because I decided to go with the flow. Where possible I let Dhruv do most of the talking. My cues came from him so I listened attentively to any information he unwittingly provided me. From my previous relationship with Dhruv I was also aware of his traits and quirks. All of that helped me to play the role of his wife on holiday with him in beautiful Goa. Why fight this dream - or whatever it was. It was altogether less stressful this way. Frankly I enjoyed the shopping we did in Panjim, the lunch we had there, and then chilling out by the swimming pool at our plush hotel. I even had a good relaxing massage while Dhruv used the exercise equipment in the health club.

During the entire day the only time it felt awkward was when Dhruv held my hand or hugged me. I could feel my body tense up whenever he did that. However, after a little while I got used to that too. That said, I did have a bit of a panic later in the evening when he became more amorous. When he started kissing the nape of my neck that set my alarm bells ringing. It would be churlish and totally out of character if I rejected his advances considering I was supposedly in love with him and was honeymooning with him - at least in this dream scenario. He had already alluded to the fact that the night before, I had been enthusiastic, shall we say, about being intimate with him. Had that really been same me, or a different me? As the real me, I may not have had any memory of what had transpired, but Dhruv certainly did. As far as he was concerned there was only one version of me.

When he began to peel away my clothes I couldn't really protest. His kissing became more intense as his hands roamed and lightly caressed my naked body. Fingertips sensuously trailed up and down my spine and then my midriff. My mind still resisted. Then his hand moved to my breast. A few minutes later, by which time his mouth moved there too, I felt my resistance melt away. I'm only human. I began to feel aroused. The last sensible thought that crossed my mind before I succumbed to passion was, if this is only a dream, I'm not really being unfaithful to Vishal.

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Before I was fully awake, I somehow knew I was in my bed in San Francisco. My eyes slowly swept the room. The sight of the familiar bedside lamp, my dressing table and the dcor of the room induced a sense of relief. I checked my left hand for good measure. The familiar engagement ring that Vishal had given me was there. Thank goodness, the dream was over. Some people remember their dreams and others don't. I fall into the second category but in this instance I recalled every detail of what had happened with Dhruv. I felt my face flush warm with embarrassment thinking about it. I decided that even though it was only a dream, I could never tell anyone about it. Besides, who am I going to share that kind of thing with? It was time to put it aside and get on with my normal and real life.

It was Sunday, the day after the engagement party. There was nothing specifically planned for the day. It would essentially be a day to chill. I glanced over at the clock and noticed that it had gone 10 o'clock. I decided I ought to get in the shower and then fix myself some breakfast. After that I'd phone my fiance, if he didn't contact me first. Knowing Vishal, he probably would reach for the phone before I did.

I stood brushing my teeth at the wash-hand basin in my long baggy white tee-shirt and female boxer shorts when something near the neckline of my tee-shirt caught my eye. I stopped brushing and pulled the neckline down with a finger to see what it was. There was a dollar-coin sized discolouration at the base of my throat. The blemish was mostly angry red in colour with the occasional dark brown streak. It was a hickey! You can't get to my age in the States and not be able to recognise a love bite. I had never permitted Vishal to do that to me. And yet, there I was in the mirror supporting a mark that defied explanation. God help me if my parents or some other family member noticed it. Or Vishal for that matter. My parents had spent the major part of their lives in California and were more liberal than many Indian parents but not that liberal. Their liberalism was of the "we won't ask, and you shouldn't tell" variety. I would need some deftly applied makeup to cover the love bite before anyone else saw me.

As I showered I tried to solve the mystery of how I could have a hickey if Vishal hadn't given it to me. I'm not proud of it but yes, I had been intimate with Dhruv - but only in the dream mind you. Dreams do not leave physical reminders, a part of me insisted. If you break a leg in a dream, you don't wake up in real life with a broken leg. How the heck did I get the love bite, then?

Deep down I knew there was a matter that I was largely ignoring. It was too fundamental and yet complex an issue to wrestle with here and now. The nub of the matter was the question of whether I been unfaithful to Vishal. Even if the honeymoon in Goa had been a dream, why had I dreamed of sex with Dhruv? Why had I been such an active participant? A therapist would have a field day with that topic! I felt both embarrassed and ashamed just thinking about it. The only thing I could think of in defence of my behaviour was that I had once loved Dhruv deeply. We had been engaged to be married. Besides, what was I supposed to do when I was on honeymoon with the man who was supposed to be my husband?

By the time I was dressed, it was clear that I could not share the contents of that dream with anyone. I was also none the wiser about the cause of the blemish. Rather than worry about it any longer I took the practical step of covering up the mark with the right shade of makeup. Then I decided to get on with my life and not let a dream spoil my day. To ground myself in reality what better way could there be than chat to Vishal on my smartphone. After all he was the centre of my universe now.

It was a lazy sort of Sunday. More so than normal given that the day before we'd all been caught up with my engagement party. Around mid-afternoon I met up with Vishal as planned and we went to Golden Gate Park to enjoy the gardens and the lakes there. Mom and Dad used to take me there quite often. It's one of my favourite places in the San Francisco Bay area. I had a great many happy memories of the place.

The park was a great place for romantic couples too. After that unsettling dream about Dhruv, I wanted to spend some quality time with my fiance. Altogether we must have spent about three hours there. Late in the afternoon Vishal decided to take me to his parents' house. Not unexpectedly I was invited by my future in-laws to stay for dinner. Later, Vishal drove me back home.

When Vishal kissed me before saying goodnight, I couldn't help comparing it to Dhruv's technique. I know that sounds awful but it wasn't as if I had consciously set out to make the comparison. It just happened. It probably had something to do with that dream of mine. I quickly dismissed the comparison. Standing on my driveway I promised Vishal I'd phone him from work around lunch break.

To my mind, all was right with the world again. I had just spent a very pleasant day with my fiance. I went to bed happy that night. Sleep came to me easily too. The last thoughts on my mind were of Vishal and how much I loved him.

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The jarring ringtone of my phone woke me up. Groggily I turned over on my bed and groped for the phone.

"Simran, you got to get down here right away," said an urgent voice.

Even through the drowsiness the voice was familiar.

"Druv..? Is that you?"

"Yes. Now get down here as fast as you can."

How could I possibly be speaking to Dhruv? He was dead.

"Get down where?" I asked completely confused as to what was happening.

"Here at the hospital of course. Where else?"

That set me fully awake and my adrenaline pumping.

"What's happened, Dhruv?"

"Simran, I could ask what's up with you? Why are you pretending you don't know what's happened?" asked an irked Dhruv on the other end of the phone.

I really didn't have a clue as to what was going on. To say I was confused didn't even get close to describing my state of mind. One thing for sure. I was panicked.

Thinking fast on my feet I said, "I'm sorry Dhruv but you just woke me up from a deep sleep. I'm still a bit out of it. Explain it to me, slowly."

"You're kidding, right?"

The lack of sleep made me cranky or I was just impatient and couldn't be bothered to explain myself.

"For crying out loud! Just tell me, Dhruv."

"I sent you home from the hospital to get some rest a few hours ago. You'd been sitting at his bedside for hours and were exhausted. Now the doctor says his condition's taken a turn for the worst. So, girl, haul your ass over here. Pronto!"

It didn't make sense. Any of it. I glanced at the clock. It was 5 am.

"Back up, Dhruv. Whose condition has taken a turn for the worse?"

"Jesus! I don't believe you're asking me that!"

My confusion was genuine.

"Get to the point, Dhruv. Just tell me who's ill?"

"Vishal of course. How can you forget he sustained serious head injuries in a car crash on the approach to the Bay Bridge?"

I swear the news was like a major blow to the head. At first it was numbing and then for an instant panic flared bright before being replaced by a constant painful throbbing. Even then, my mind was grasping at an alternative and more acceptable explanations. While Druv did have a penchant for playing pranks even he would never consider a mean prank of this nature. Nevertheless I had to ask.

"Druv, tell me you're messing with me."

"Simran, I know you're in shock. Well, we all are. But I swear this is straight up and no kidding around. Now stop wasting time and get over here to Saint Francis Memorial ASAP."

Eh Bhagwaan, apne kya keya?

Vishal was seriously injured. Bhagwaan meri jaan layloh magar unki baksh doh was my earnest silent prayer. Please don't let my fiance die. And that thought galvanised me.

"Right, I'm on my way! I'll call you back once I'm in the car, on route."

I quickly got out of bed even as a part of me was insisting that it was Dhruv who'd been killed in a car accident on the Bay Bridge - not Vishal. It was only after that fatal car accident that I grew closer to, then fell in love with Vishal. No, I refused to accept that Vishal was seriously injured. None of this can be real. This is just another one of those strange and disturbing dreams. There could be no other explanation for this nightmarish situation. Yet deep down, I knew I would have to experience this torment before I returned to the real and waking world.

Questions were still buzzing in my head like angry bees even by the time I finished throwing on some clothes and shoes. I didn't even bother to tell my parents where I was going. It would take too long to wake them and explain everything to them. I just headed for my car. I dialled Dhruv as soon as I was out of my drive and on the road.

"I'm on my way," I told him. "Should be with you in about 15 minutes."

"Good, but Simran, drive carefully. We don't want any more accidents. There's traffic even this early in the morning."

I ignored what he said and went straight to what I wanted to know.

"Tell me what the doctor said about Vishal's condition."

"His condition deteriorated in the last hour or so. I phoned you when they took Vishal back into surgery. That's the second time they've had to do that since the accident. The doctor said Vishal has suffered considerable head trauma and unless they can permanently stop the bleeding in his brain pretty darn quick, he's not going to make it."

A cry of anguish leapt from my throat. I was so upset at the news that I couldn't sustain the conversation much longer. "Dhruv, I'll be with you as soon as I can," I told him and then ended the call. It was going to take all of my concentration to keep at bay all the thoughts running wild in my mind.

The thought that my fiance could die in the next few hours shocked me to my core. What was happening to my life? Why were the people I care about dying? First Dhruv and now possibly Vishal. Tears began to well up and sure enough a moment later they were dripping down my cheeks and chin. I couldn't locate any tissues. I used the back of my left hand to wipe them away. On doing that, I noticed something else that pulled me up short. There was no engagement ring on my finger - nor a wedding ring. But I'm engaged to Vishal, I insisted to myself. Well, at least I think I am. If I'm not engaged to Vishal, then shouldn't I be engaged to Dhruv? Why was I not wearing an engagement ring?

None of this made sense. Confused and distressed in equal measure, I wrestled with my feelings and the gaps in my understanding. Again, I repeated my mantra. It's got to be a dream. Just like last time, it feels real but it's just my mind playing tricks. Yet I had doubts on that matter too. I reached up and touched the spot where I had noticed the love bite the other day. Dreams don't produce love bites. The area at the base of my throat was still distinctly tender to touch. So how could that honeymoon with Dhruv have been a dream? I was back to my initial assessment. None of what was going on made any sense whatsoever.

I vowed to go see a therapist at the earliest opportunity. That's when a cynical part of my mind questioned what good that would do me. I couldn't even complain I was having a re-occurring dream. Could what was happening even be called a nightmare? Each of the episodes was different and unsettling but that's all they had in common. Curiously enough the two episodes, if I counted this current one, where I wasn't engaged to Vishal, were about my relationships with Vishal and Dhruv. Was a part of my mind questioning my decisions about my love life? And if I'm not engaged to Vishal what is the nature of my relationship with him? Didn't Dhruv mention that I had sat for hours by Vishal's bedside? Why would I do that unless I cared about him deeply?

By the time my car pulled up at the hospital, I still hadn't resolved any of the questions and doubts I had about what was happening to me or why. Momentarily I set it aside and in my haste practically jogged to the hospital entrance. I was surprised to spot Dhruv at the entrance. What surprised me even more was that he was smoking a cigarette. Dhruv - at least the one I was familiar with - didn't smoke. He looked up and spotted me. Before I reached him, he had discarded the cigarette half-finished.

I hugged Dhruv tightly in the hope of finding some solace. While the tension precipitated by my fear for Vishal lessened a little, comforted by Dhruv's embrace, my tears began to flow again. There was no mistaking the fact that Dhruv also drew strength from the hug. On the surface he might be better at hiding his emotions but he was just as worried about Vishal as I was. After all the two of them were best buddies. They had been inseparable until I came into their lives.

When we disengaged from each other, he noticed the tears and wiped them away with his hand. As he did that his sombre expression changed quite quickly.

He looked at me with a puzzled expression that prompted me to ask "What's wrong?"

"Your eyes."

"Yes, they're puffy from crying."

"No it's not that," he told me, as he directed me into the hospital and towards the elevator.

"What then?"

"When did you start wearing coloured contact lenses?"

"I don't wear contacts. You know that."

The elevator door opened. It was empty. Both of us got in.

"So why are your eyes a different colour from before?"

"Search me. Why? What colour are they supposed to be?"

Dhruv pressed the button for the third floor.

"I swear they were brown when I last saw you."

"And what colour are they now?" I enquired my scepticism obvious to anyone.

"They look greenish blue to me."

"And you really think when I'm rushing here to Vishal's sick bed I'm going to stop to put in coloured contacts?"

"Of course not."

The elevator came to a halt and the door slid open.

"Well there you have your answer."

"But I'm telling you, they were different last time I saw you," he insisted as he exited the elevator with me following behind him.

"You're obviously suffering from sleep deprivation. My eyes have always been this colour."

"If you say so."

Dhruv led the way and I followed. Deep down the business about my eye colour bugged me but I didn't say any more.

"He's probably still in surgery, Simran. We'll wait for him in his room."

In the private ward, Vishal parents and younger sister were present. Their haggard expressions showed the emotional toll the accident had taken on them. I went over to greet them and commiserate. We talked briefly. The conversation was stilted and awkward given the situation. Some of the things said were disjointed but they were well intended.

"Auntie, you wait and see. In two or three weeks he'll be bored with hospital and demanding to be sent home."

"Beti, yeh sab Bhagwaan ke haath may heh," commented Vishal's mother fatalistically.

My attempt to buoy up her spirits had been an abject failure. However on a spiritual level, I agreed with her about God and the role of fate. What I had difficulty with was the idea of a capricious God.

While I was mulling that over, Preity, Vishal's younger sister added "Simran, how are we going to break the news to him about Aarti?"

I didn't understand who or what Preity was talking about but I was too embarrassed to ask her to explain. I muttered something suitably sympathetic and then drifted away and made my way towards Dhruv. Like the last dream I didn't quite grasp all the details of the scenario and I was wary of committing another faux pas. Dhruv was the only one I could turn to for some answers.

"Dhruv what happened to Aarti?"

"Simran, you're being weird again. First you behave as if you knew nothing of Vishal's car crash and now you're having a mental lapse about Aarti being killed in the car crash."

While I was taking in that piece of missing information my mind was already formulating another question. What was she doing in the car with Vishal? More to the point, as far as I was concerned, who the hell was Aarti?

It was at this point that the doctor entered the room and asked to speak to Vishal's parents. From the doctor's expressionless face I couldn't discern what sort of news he was bringing. My anxiety level rocketed. The doctor and Vishal's family were in one corner of the room as Dhruv and I anxiously looked on. I scanned their faces for any insight into what was being said. If only I could lip read.

There was a sudden and loud wail of distress from Vishal's mother. That could only herald bad news. Yet I still refused to believe the conclusion my mind was coming to. I was unwilling to accept Vishal could be dead. I needed confirmation from the doctor's own lips or Vishal's mother's. Surely I was entitled to hold onto hope until then. Dhruv slipped his arm around me to comfort me. Even as I continued to watch Vishal's father speaking to the doctor, I tried to distract my mind from the inevitable bad news by quietly asking "Dhruv, who was Aarti?"

"Simran, hadd bhi hoti heh! I know you hated her but don't pretend you don't know who she is - I meant, was. Yes, you took it hard when Vishal broke up with you. I get that. But they'd been an item for a year now."

Momentarily I was mentally thrown off balance. Vishal and I had been broken up? How could we, when I love him? I needed more answers.

"Dhruv, I want to ask you something. Just give me a straight answer, no questions asked. OK?"

"Simran is this the time and place to -"

"Just do it, no matter how off-the-wall I sound."

"Fine. Ask away," was the grudging response.

"How long were they engaged?"

"What does that matter? They'd been married for six months."

I reeled on hearing that news. My Vishal was married to someone else. He had married someone whose face I couldn't even remember. No, none of it's true. This is just a dream, I kept telling myself. I wanted badly to wake up.

While those thoughts were filling my head, the doctor finished with Vishal's parents. As he headed out of the room he looked directly over at Vishal and me. His sad expression and the accompanying head shake was a clear non-verbal communication aimed at us.

Beside me I heard Dhruv in a low gasp state the obvious. "Simran, Vishal's gone. God, I can't believe it."

At that point the room began to spin before my eyes, images became blurry and I remember the sensation of falling. The floor came towards me and smacked me on the side of my head. Then there was only blackness.

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

I climbed to consciousness very slowly. I was lying on my back on what felt like a bed. When I moved my head to permit my eyes to sweep my surroundings I realised two things: I was in the familiar surroundings of my bedroom, and the right side of my head hurt due to a deep but dull throbbing. With a hand I gingerly touched the area where the pain was located. There was a distinct, sensitive lump in the area that hurt. I connected the injury to the fact that I had fainted. Panic and shock set in when I recalled the reason I had fainted. Vishal was dead. I refused to accept it. Also, Dhruv had said Vishal married Aarti. I also refused to believe that. Before I could stop myself I was reaching for my smartphone and speed dialling Vishal's number. If he answered I'd know Vishal's fatal accident was just another vivid dream.

"Simran, this is not a good time," said a familiar.

A wave of relief washed over me. My Vishal was alive. Just hearing his voice made my heart soar with joy.

"I'm kind of in the middle of something right now. I'll call you back when I get a moment. Got to go now, Simran. Bye."

He ended the call but that didn't matter. I had learned what I needed to know. I whooped with happiness. I then relaxed and lay back and luxuriated in the comfort of my bed. A sense of contentment descended over me like a blanket, and I was conscious that I was smiling. Everything was right with the world again. It stayed that way until I felt the side of my head throb yet again.

If this was reality and Vishal's death a mere nightmarish creation of my mind, then why did I have a lump on my head? I dismissed as unlikely the idea that I had fallen out of bed during the night. Then another equally disturbing thought came to me. What if this was a dream within a dream? What if within a dream I had dreamed that Vishal had been killed and now I was waking up, but was currently still dreaming? I found myself checking my left hand for a ring.

It was a relief to discover I was wearing an engagement ring. However that sensation was short lived. What if I was engaged, but not to Vishal? I checked my engagement ring more carefully. It definitely was the ring Vishal had given me. Despite that I still felt uneasy. Perhaps I'm not back to the world I know. What if I'm in another dream where I'm engaged to Vishal but Dhruv is still alive? How would I handle that situation? After all, I had dreamed of stranger things over the last few days. I needed some answers. I needed confirmation I was back in the world I was most familiar with. Grabbing my phone again I tried to speed dial Dhruv. When I couldn't locate his number in my address book, I concluded it was because Dhruv didn't exist anymore. If Dhruv were alive, I would definitely have his number. Whereas previously recalling Dhruv's death had always brought a twinge of sorrow and regret, on this occasion I actually felt relieved. It meant the bad dream had ended and I was back to reality - one where I loved Vishal and was engaged to him.

I took my time before I decided to get out of bed and head for the bathroom to shower. Even though I was in a cheery mood, I did consider what I ought to do about these weird dreams I'd been having. Making an appointment to see a therapist still didn't appeal. Anyone else I shared my dreams with would probably laugh at me for taking them so seriously. Everybody has disturbing dreams at some time or other, I'd be told. The only person I knew who might understand the emotional impact of the dreams was Vishal. We had been through a great deal together. He wouldn't dismiss what I told him. Perhaps I ought to share my troubling dreams with him. Of course I would leave out the intimate details of what happened in the dream about being on honeymoon with Dhruv. No point in upsetting him unnecessarily. That would also spare my blushes - or was that, spare my guilt?

Mom had taken herself off to her yoga classes and Dad had taken the dog for a walk. I had the place to myself and was finishing a leisurely breakfast when Vishal phoned me back. We chatted for a good 20 minutes. It gave me a warm fuzzy feeling being able to talk with my fiance like this. He was up for it when I suggested we meet up later for some lunch. I didn't tell him directly that I wanted to talk about my dreams but I did say I wanted to talk to him about something important and wanted his advice. That got his attention. We agreed I was buying lunch.

Over food at one of the restaurants in Union Square, Vishal has listened carefully and without comment to my recounting of the dreams.

"Well, what d'you think?" I finally put to him.

"I understand how all these events have been unsettling for you, but in the final analysis, they might just be dreams. Nothing more."

"So that's the best you got? They're just disturbing dreams."

Vishal ignored my mocking tone.

"Well they're all permutations of possible relationships between Dhruv, you and me. Not entirely unexpected given what we've all been through. If I didn't know you better, I'd say you ought to see a psychiatrist because deep down you have concerns about us being engaged."

"That's the point. I don't have concerns about being engaged to you."

"Lighten up, Simran. I was just messing with you."

"Look, let's just put aside for the moment the business about my state of mind. Tell me why if these experiences are just dreams, how come I have a bruise on my head and the insect bite on my throat?"

I had told Vishal a white lie and replaced the love bite with an insect bite. It was easier to tell that story than what had really happened on the honeymoon. Besides, could I be absolutely certain that it hadn't been an insect bite?

"The simplest explanation is you fell out of bed and bumped your head but don't remember it. Same sort of thing goes for the insect bite. An insect could have bitten you before or after you had your dream about the honeymoon."

"I don't buy it Vishal. Each time I've been in a different situation I've had almost total recall of who I am now. I usually don't remember my dreams but I remember every last detail of these last two. There's got be another explanation. It can't just be down to dreams."

"Well there's always re-incarnation."

That caught me by surprise and left me puzzled.

"And how exactly does re-incarnation explain things? Clearly I'm still alive and haven't been re-incarnated."

"But what if you were seeing glimpses of past lives you've already lived?"

"So you're telling me that in a previous incarnation Druv didn't die in a car accident and he and I went on to get married?"

Vishal instead of answering just shrugged his shoulders.

"And then in yet another incarnation you and I broke up and you went off and married someone else?"

"Simran, I don't know what else to tell you."

At that I threw up my hands in resignation. This situation was intolerable. Vishal reached across the table and squeezed my hand in reassurance. He looked at me for a long moment before speaking.

"You know, there might well be one other explanation."

Despite Vishal's tentative comment, I was ready to grasp at any possible explanation of my recent disturbing experiences.

"Why didn't you say so earlier?"

"Because it's less credible than the dream explanation."

I didn't care. I was prepared to consider almost anything that made sense.

"Go on, then. What's this other explanation?"

"How much do you know about String Theory?"

"Do I look like a science nerd or sci-fi buff to you?"

Vishal laughed at that because often I ribbed him because he was so into sci-fi films and books. Personally I can't abide all that Star Wars and Star Trek stuff.

"Well how about the idea of parallel worlds. You heard of those?"

"Kinda," was my hesitant reply.

"In a parallel world everything is pretty much the same as our current world except for one aspect. For example in a parallel world you might not be an only child. You might have a brother or sister."

"Oh, I get it."

"Of course it might be that on a parallel world, Hitler won the Second World War. Can you imagine what that world would be like?"

My wide-eyed expression made it clear to him that these sorts of ideas were totally new to me.

"Well, String Theory predicts that all possible chance events or possible choices you could make in your life, do happen, except in alternative or parallel universes. Scientists call these the multiverse. Hypothetically there is an infinite set of possible universes, including our own. So there's a universe out there where we never ever met each other. There's also a universe out there where you first fell in love with me instead of Dhruv."

"It's got to be something like that, Vishal. It kinda fits."

I was so excited about this new explanation. It was such a neat fit for what had been happening to me. In one universe I did marry Dhruv, and in another Vishal married somebody called Aarti. Unfortunately my fiance was far less enamoured than me with the parallel worlds idea.

"The only problem is the multiverse idea is only a hypothesis. While there's films and sci-fi books based on the idea of a multiverse, no one's produced any hard evidence for it."

"I don't care! It rings true to me. I'm sure scientists will eventually find the evidence for it."

"That's all very well, Simran, but even if scientists prove there really is a multiverse, that doesn't mean travel between the alternative universes is possible."

"Trust you to rain on my parade."

"And then you have to explain how come only you get to visit these alternative universes?"

Vishal's lack of enthusiasm for the idea and my lack of quality sleep made me quite irritable.

"You just don't know when to stop, do you? I think the idea of travelling to an alternative universe is a sensible explanation," I told him tetchily. "I don't care if you think it's impossible."

"It's not just me. Most scientists would say it's impossible. It's a fun sci-fi idea but not much more than that."

"The multiverse can account for what's been happening to me better than dreams. It explains why I have insect bites and lumps on my head when I wake up in the morning."

"Fine, but just don't go around telling everyone you've been experiencing alternative universes. They'll think you're a nut job and have you put away."

Even as Vishal was saying all this, a smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Just remember, meri jaan, the authorities won't let you out of the lunatic asylum even if it's to attend our wedding in two months' time."

"Ha-ha. Very funny. But here's something for my would-be husband to consider. If I find a better version of Vishal in an alternative universe, I'm not coming back here."

"Oh, you'll be back," he asserted with confidence.

"How can you be so sure?" I teased.

"Two reasons really, Janeman. First and foremost is that you love me deeply, madly. The second is that you always shift back to this world when you fall asleep. Q.E.D."

Although Vishal wore a cocky expression and was jesting, I was alarmed at the idea that I might travel to an alternative world on every occasion I fell asleep.

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

I awoke because my bladder was very full. In the dark, I groggily made my way to the bathroom. I was momentarily dazzled when I switched on the light. My eyes quickly adjusted to the brightness but in truth I was still only half awake. Having completed what I had to do, I moved to the wash-hand basin. As I washed my hands I idly checked myself out in the mirror. Not bad for my age, I told myself, and I wasn't just referring to my appearance. Being a graduate of Stanford University Business School, I was now working in the marketing department of a prestigious national company. Despite the setback of Dhruv's death in a car accident 18 months ago, I had moved on and luckily found love a second time. It wouldn't be long before Vishal and I were married, I reminded myself.

It was when I was less distracted and drying my hands that I noticed I wasn't wearing a ring. Almost as soon as the panic flared it died again when I spotted on my finger the indentation left by a ring. I sighed with relief. I'd probably taken off the ring and left it on my dressing table. Momentary panic over, it was time to return to bed.

It was when I grabbed the door knob to exit the bathroom that I heard a sudden sound. It nearly made me jump out of my skin. There had been a sneeze from the bedroom. In alarm I froze where I was. Somebody was in my bedroom. My first thought was it was some sort of intruder, perhaps a burglar. I put my ear to the bathroom door and listened carefully for any further sounds from the bedroom. Nothing. I turned round and quickly scanned the bathroom for anything that I could use as weapon. There was nothing of any use. My next idea was to phone the police. Then I remembered that my cell phone was on the bedside table. There was no option apparent other than wait it out. Let the intruder take what he wanted and leave. Life was more important than property, I reminded myself. Anyway, there wasn't much in my bedroom worth stealing.

I seemed to be standing silently for what felt like ages. I couldn't stay here forever. Before deciding to be brave enough to venture out, I decided it might be safer to switch off the bathroom light. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the darkness again. I opened the door a fraction and peeked into the bedroom. Dark familiar outlines were all that I could make out. Everything seemed normal although the lack of illumination made that assessment only provisional. I opened the bathroom door and tiptoed into the bedroom. My heart was racing. I was tense and conscious of breathing quietly as possible.

As I wandered further into the room and noticed nothing out of ordinary, I relaxed a little. I still wasn't prepared to switch on the main light or the bedside lamp. Going over to the main door to the bedroom, I pressed my ear against it, listening for unexpected sounds from the landing, or even from downstairs. When I heard nothing, I opened the door and stepped onto the landing and peered through the dark. Holding the wooden rail, I glanced down below. Everywhere, silence and darkness prevailed. Relieved I returned to my bedroom. I was still wary of switching on the main light in the room. For some reason I thought it safer to put on the bedside lamp. I was telling myself I was being unnecessarily cautious when I heard the sneeze again.

I nearly jumped out of my skin, yet again. The sound had come from the area of my bed. My heart was hammering in my chest when I looked over at the bed. When I had gotten out of bed, I had pushed aside the duvet which now formed a little hill running down the middle of the bed. There was nothing else worthy of notice. I quickly eyeballed the rest of the room just to be sure. If the noise hadn't come from anything in the bed, perhaps it had come from something under the bed. Hai Bhagwaan! I felt like a child afraid of monsters lurking under the bed.

There was no way I could go back to sleep without checking what was under my bed. I plucked up my courage, grabbed my smartphone and accessed the torch app. I was holding my breath when I knelt down to peek under the bed. The light was sufficient to show my anxiety was totally unwarranted. Feeling a little foolish for being so jittery I switched off the torch app. Time to forget the whole melodramatic episode and climb back into bed. I had sleep to catch up on. I switched off the bedside lamp and climbed into bed.

I had just settled onto my side and pulled the duvet onto me when I heard a soft moan next to me. For an instant I froze. Then suddenly I leapt out of bed as if I'd been scalded. In the process, I had half swivelled round to face the bed and managed to yank aside the duvet which was tightly held in my grasp. My heart racing, I stared at the bed in the darkness. There was a small elongated shape of some sort lying on the bed. Whatever it was, it wasn't moving. I stood rooted to the spot straining to make out more detail. The shape wasn't making any moves. Realising there was no immediate threat, I calmed down. Deciding to be brave, I reached over and switched on the bedside lamp again. What I saw was totally unexpected.

There was a four or five year old child in my bed. When I had gotten up to go to the bathroom I must have pushed the duvet aside in such a way that it hid him from view. The source of sneezes and moaning lay right there before me. The sleeping boy, dressed in bluish pyjamas appeared so small and vulnerable. Reflexively I felt a tenderness towards him as any adult would towards an innocent child. I wondered whose child it was and what he was doing in my bed.

The child can't be mine. And yet I could think of no other credible explanation. Surely if it was my child I'd recognise him, and certainly be able to put a name to him. I knew nothing about him and had never seen him before. If he was my child, why was I still living in my parents' house, sleeping in my familiar bedroom? Things didn't make sense. I couldn't even remember who my husband was supposed to be. Briefly I entertained the idea that I was married and that I and my child had come to spend a few days with my parents. I dismissed the idea because my bedroom was as I had always remembered it. Nothing had changed since I last saw it. And that was only yesterday. No, this was one of those strange dreams again - or one of those parallel universe things that Vishal had spoken about. Please God let it be just a dream, was my fervent prayer. My curiosity peaked and I wandered over to take a closer look at the little boy.

There were so many unanswered question in my head jostling for attention. When exactly did I get married? Who was I married to? I hoped it was Vishal, but there was no way of being certain. Where was my husband, anyway? I needed answers but there was no one to provide them. What should I do now? Should I wake up the child? Surely that would be unnecessarily unkind. Besides, the child could only tell me so much. If I wasn't the child's mother, I'd scare the boy out of his wits. What if I went downstairs and woke up my parents? Waking up my parents in the middle of the night with questions that would strike them as bizarre would only exacerbate the problem. They would think I was insane. And just when I thought there was no way of answering my questions, I remembered my smartphone.

Grabbing my phone, I began scrolling down my catalogue of numbers. Frantically I scanned the names in search of people who were familiar. Apart from close family members, I didn't recognise most of the names on my list. When I didn't see Dhruv or Vishal anywhere on the list, I felt frantic and searched again. Perhaps I had listed them under their surnames. That too turned up nothing. If in this reality I'm not married to Dhruv or Vishal, who on earth was the father of my child? I chided myself for so readily accepting that the child was mine. The child's maternity was far from settled. I began to panic because this was totally unfamiliar territory for me. Eh Bhagwaan, ab apne kya kiya?

Overwhelmed, I sat on the edge of the bed. In the absence of useful information I needed some sort of strategy for coping with this novel and unsettling situation. Nothing came to mind because I found myself obsessing about being the mother of a young child. The idea that I was a mother was difficult to take on board. I had only ever thought as far as getting married. At this stage of our relationship, Vishal and I had never talked about having children. I had barely completed my university degree. I concluded insufficient time had elapsed to permit me to graduate, get married and raise a four year old. That's when the thought occurred that I might not have attended university. If I'd never attended university that would explain why Dhruv and Vishal didn't exist in this new setting. Wow. No Vishal and Dhruv in my life. That took a bit of getting used to. With no degree to complete, perhaps my parents arranged my marriage at a younger age. Was I now married to some total stranger?

God, when will this nightmare end? It will end, I repeatedly told myself to bolster my spirits. That's when I remembered something Vishal had said. I travelled to these alternative universes when I fell asleep. When I awakened I had always wound up back in my familiar world. Perhaps the best course of action was to go back to sleep. When I awoke again, I should be back in my real home with my fiance and a wedding to plan. Considering I had no other strategy, this plan was the only one worth trying.

I got into bed beside the little boy. I didn't even know his name, or what kind of personality he had. For a long while I lay there awake. My mind kept fending off questions making it difficult to fall asleep. I began to think this plan of reawakening to my familiar world wouldn't work.

The bed shook a little as the child first moaned and then turned in his sleep. He closed the gap between us when he snuggled up to me. I didn't have the heart to push him away or disturb him in any way. I have to confess he felt warm, soft and somehow comforting. Whether it was maternal instinct or merely concern for another vulnerable human being, I don't know, but I put a protective arm around him. I felt myself relaxing. Not long afterwards, I felt drowsy and drifted off into unconsciousness.

The next thing I remember was someone trying to shake me awake. With my eyes still closed firmly, I groaned because I felt tired and wanted to sleep some more. The sensation of a wetness on my cheek caused me to half open my eyes. A blurry face was hovering over me. Who the heck..?

"Mommy, wake up! It's morning."

That brought me to my senses pretty darn quick. A child was standing on the bed astride my body, smiling down at me. However the questions that confronted me were not about him. The first question on my mind was, why am I not waking up in my own familiar world? The second question that came to mind was, how long will I be stuck in this place before I return to my true home?

(The End)