Monday night descends upon the "Amaravati Wellness Center" as Aisha prepares to welcome Mr. Arjun Kapoor, an IT employee burdened by elusive sleep. As she prepares a comforting cup of warm chamomile tea, the calm world inside the therapy room is disturbed by a gentle knock on the door. "Please come in," Aisha beckons, her soothing voice embracing the anticipation that lingers within the room. Arjun steps into the sanctuary of healing. His eyes sweep across the room, silently taking in every meticulously placed element against the soothing backdrop of the tea's comforting aroma that delicately permeates the air. Aisha, attentive to his silent contemplation, recognizes the unspoken opinions that form about the haven she has crafted. With a welcoming smile, Aisha greets Arjun and gestures towards the sofa, inviting him to take a seat. As they settle in, she initiates the session with a brief introduction of herself, her warm demeanor putting Arjun at ease. Returning the courtesy, she invites Arjun to share a bit about himself.
As Arjun begins to introduce himself, Aisha keenly observes subtle nuances that reveal more than words convey. She notices a lack of confidence reflected in his gaze; his eyes unable to meet hers for prolonged moments. Arjun's words, though genuine, seem scattered, his thoughts meandering in different directions as he attempts to articulate his own narrative. Aisha, attuned to the underlying currents of emotions, maintains a gentle and reassuring presence. Amid his fragmented self-introduction, Aisha remains patient, understanding that the journey towards healing often begins with unraveling the layers of one's own story. As he finishes his introduction, Aisha, with a tactful transition, diverts his attention to the matter he had mentioned in his email—the problem of trouble sleeping. With a compassionate tone, she encourages him to share more about this specific concern, creating a safe space for Arjun to delve into the details of his insomnia.
Arjun, with a sense of urgency, begins expressing the torment that plagues his nights. "I can't sleep," he admits, his voice revealing the depth of his distress. "The dreams... they're too real, as if I'm actually there. And I have no control. It's like something takes over, moves my hands, makes me do things I don't want to do. It feels like there's another soul using me, manipulating me in those moments." Aisha, noting his agitated state, gently gestures toward the cup of chamomile tea placed in front of Arjun. "Please have some tea," she suggests. Arjun complies, extending his hand to grasp the cup of chamomile tea. The warmth emanating from the porcelain vessel offers a tangible comfort as he takes a sip. Aisha observes the subtle shift in his demeanor, hopeful that the soothing ritual and the gentle atmosphere will encourage Arjun to share more about the unsettling dreams that have woven themselves into the fabric of his nights. "Now," she continues, "tell me, since when have you been experiencing these unsettling dreams?" Arjun, his gaze fixed on the tea, takes a moment before responding, "Few years now."
Encouraged by his willingness to share, Aisha probes gently, "Can you tell me about the first time you had one of these dreams?" Arjun, still navigating the waters of his own vulnerability, begins to recount the memory. "It was a rainy night. I was walking to the nearest station to catch the local train back home." Aisha, fully immersed in his narrative, nods attentively, offering a silent reassurance. Arjun, with a hint of hesitation, continues, his words punctuated by occasional stutters born from a lingering lack of confidence. "On the way, I saw a beggar, malnourished and desperately lifting something that looked like rice from a dumpster, eating to survive. As soon as he noticed me, he hurriedly approached, asking for some money. He shared his tale of poverty, a sad story that every beggar seemingly recites." Aisha, patiently waits for Arjun to unravel the layers of his subconscious, knowing that within these fragments lie the keys to understanding his troubled dreams.
Arjun's voice trembled as he recounted the encounter with the beggar in his dream. "I felt this deep agony for him, you know? Like I wanted to free him from all that pain." With a hesitant pause, Arjun's discomfort became palpable. His hands shook slightly, betraying the unease underlying his words. In the quiet of the therapy room, every subtle shift in his body language spoke volumes, revealing the emotional weight of his recollection.
"I told him that I don't have any cash with me and I can withdraw some from an ATM, if there is any nearby," Arjun explained. As he narrated, the beggar accepted his offer and directed him towards an ATM near the railway station. Arjun's demeanor seemed to brighten momentarily, as if he yearned for that confirmation. Following the beggar's lead, they navigated through the dimly lit streets until they reached a junction.
"Wait!" Arjun interjected. "The straight path should take us to the station back gate, and we can cross to the front gate using the overhead bridge. The left path to the front gate is long." The beggar complied, leading them down the secluded alley, the darkness casting eerie shadows around them. Arjun's heart raced as he noticed a rock on the roadside. He silently picked up the rock and with his grip tightening around it, he quickened his pace to catch up with the beggar.
Just as he closed the distance, the beggar turned towards Arjun. Without hesitation, Arjun struck the rock against the beggar's head, sending him collapsing to the ground with a pained cry. Describing the dream further, Arjun's voice quivered with emotion. "I was trying to shout for me to stop, but I couldn't voice it. My body wasn't listening to me." His words hung heavy in the air, each syllable weighed down by the burden of his subconscious. " I struck him again and again on the head, each blow met with a spray of blood landing on my face. With each strike, I felt as though I was losing myself, descending deeper into a haze of horror and disbelief. Finally, as the last echoes of violence faded, I discarded my raincoat, watching the blood flow towards the gutter like a macabre river carrying away the essence of that poor soul, as if it were departing this world for another realm."
The room fell into an uneasy silence, Aisha absorbing the weight of Arjun's unsettling dream and its impact on his waking reality. The weight of his words lingered, the haunting imagery of the dream echoing in the shared silence. "And at that moment," Arjun added with a shudder, "I woke up, scared and horrified." Bewildered by the intensity of the dream, Aisha ventured to ask if he often experienced such nightmares. Arjun, head bowed, answered "yes," with a restless demeanor, as if he carried a heavy burden of guilt. Understanding his distressed state, she shifts her approach, gently inquiring about his family, hoping to uncover an emotional companion in his life. Arjun, however, reveals that he is an orphan and currently single. The word "orphan" resonates with Aisha, triggering a moment of reflection on her own past. Composing herself with a deep breath, she prepares to delve into the intricacies of Arjun's psyche and the haunting realm of his dreams. The connection formed by this shared understanding sets the stage for a more profound exploration, as Aisha gears up to unravel the delicate terrain of emotions and memories that shape Arjun's troubled subconscious.