Just A Dream

By: Boddhayan Bhowmick

dark-night

She had almost retired for the night when the doorbell rang. She wearily got out of bed and put on her nightgown. She opened the door someone was standing on the threshold; a dark shadowy figure stretched long covered the whole door. It was her husband Ambit who died in a car-crash three years ago. It was around 10:30 p.m., the lights began to flicker and then they were plunged into darkness.

The dark room was dimly illuminated by the street lamps. Aditi shrieked but nothing audible was heard. There was no escape from the creepy darkness or the present she was about to witness.

“Who are you”? Aditi could muster only three words.

Ambit”, a deep baritone answered, “there is something I need to tell”.

Her mind was moving faster than screen flashback. A blind datemarriage with Ambit….birth of Aryan….a long drive to Puri…the crash. Aditi and his son survived but Ambit died on spot. Aryan lost his father. He was one. Life had to go on and Aditi got Ambit’s job. Almost all the savings were lost repaying the debts Ambit had in the market. It was slowly turning out to be a losing battle for Aditi.

“Aditi, listen, listen to me, I don’t have time”.

Ambit, Ambit, is that really you?”

“An astrologer told me I would die soon after my marriage. I didn’t believe him then. Guess what, it came true. Don’t know why but I saved a secret bank account for your future.”

Ambit held his hand towards Aditi. A locket was hanging off his palm.

“Take it and tear out my photo”.

It was Ambit’s treasured locket lost with him.

Unobtrusively a quivering Aditi accepted the locket. Ambit was gone. She looked right into the darkness. A surreal mist was slowly obstructing her watery vision. Her trembled feet gave away at last. She tripped, everything went black.

“Mummy, mummy”, a little hand was shaking Aditi.

Aditi opened her eyes. She was drenched in sweat.

“Mummy you were saying something”, a wide-eyed Aryan muttered.

Aditi looked around and gathered her composure. Everything was in place. It was 10:30 p.m.

“Nothing dear”, Aditi smiled “just a dream”.

Suddenly she looked at her palm. A locket clinched to her fist. It was Ambit’s. She quickly opened it, and clawed out his photo. There was a piece of paper under. It read: “SBI, Main Branch, Kolkata, A/c: 025487898, for your future, Ambit.”

Prelude: This story of mine was published on the October 2007 edition of Spellbound, The Times of India.

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