Within Her Threads- A Murder Mystery

Chapter 1. The Dream

Thump! Toing! Crash...... 'Aayi! My bums!' I swore as my back hit the floor. It was the third consecutive night when I had fallen from my bed. It had never happened before. I never fell from my bed even when I was small and used to sleep on a bunker-size bed. But for last three nights.... 'Maa!' I groaned, as I rubbed my spinal region. 'This will surely give me back problem,' I mumbled. I picked up the sheet from the floor and tossed it back on the bed. The sound of a distant siren floated in through the window as I squinted at the clock on my bedside table. 'This is crazy,' I said. 'Just like yesterday and day before yesterday....I have fallen at exactly the same time...four-o'clock in the night and...,' Ahem! '...Fine! Four in the morning,' I grumbled when my mind corrected me. Can't believe it; even at this ungodly hour my mind is correcting me, I thought.

Ungodly did you say? My mind became fully aroused with a hand on its waist.

For your whole life, your grandfather taught you that the ideal time to wake up is four in the morning- Brahmamuhurata- the auspicious hour, favoured by devatas (gods) and here you're scorning and desecrating all.... Fine! I got up from the floor, flung the pillow back on the bed and flopped down on it. But no matter how much I tried, I couldn't go back to sleep. Weird glimpses, unhealthy thoughts flooded my head. I turned and twisted on the bed, determined to get back to sleep but then tired of the activities of my peppy mind which had started to hum- Luis Fonsi's Despacito, I conceded defeat. The time was five o'clock. One hour! Has it been one hour already? I wondered. Well, you can work on your HR project, my mind suggested sagaciously and therefore deciding to dedicate my time in some fruitful work, I left the bedroom.

At seven o'clock, only in my pyjamas, sitting by the kitchen counter, I was vigorously researching for my project. A cup of black coffee was placed on the kitchen table but I had forgotten all about it as soon as my mind got occupied by the project. Presently, my phone rang; I picked it up on the second ring.

'Good morning baby,' a dulcet voice greeted me from the other end.

'Hi Meghna,' I said in an off-handed tone.

'Don't tell me you woke up again before...,'

'I did,' I cut shortly.

'Neil is it because of the...,'

'Same dream? Yes.' God! Why did I tell her?

'I think you should see a doctor.'

'Meghna, for a freaking fever the GP gives me an appointment after a week and you think they will indulge their time to check on my dreams.'

'Don't shout on me like that,' said Meghna in a vexed tone. 'I am just trying to help. You need to...,'

But I couldn't take it anymore. At seven in the morning, I didn't want her shouting and screaming instructions in my ears. I hung up, pushed the laptop aside and closed my eyes. I hadn't noticed it yet, but the line of my eyebrows had been aching for some time. I ran my thumb over the curve of my eyebrows to curb the pain but it didn't help. Maybe a hot shower? my mind proposed in a tone of a devoted butler. I tried to avoid the suggestion but my body suddenly started pining for a warm shower so with a grunt of assent, I trudged to the bathroom.

As warm water cascaded down my midriff, I closed my eyes and before I could stop I saw it again. It had been three days...for three continuous days I was having the same vision about me getting stuck in a pool of muddy water. In my sleep, during meditation, whenever I closed my eyes, I saw this pool of murky water; my flailing arms trying to get out of the pool but every time I reach the surface, I am pulled down by some unknown force. What does it mean? I googled, consulted my physician friend in India, spoke about it to my girlfriend- Meghna (which was the worst move) but none of it helped in subsiding those visions.