So, since I am not sleeping well, I am having these vivid dreams. 

In last night’s dream, I was with Priyanka. She is now a big shot, doing some kind of wheeling-dealing, some kind of wish-granting voodoo queen, operating from a fancy hotel in a fancy city. I meet her because I have some money issues–I always have money issues, and we leave the hotel to go to my place, or her place. I think I am in a hurry. So, instead of getting a cab or other transport, we decide to take a walk. Soon, we leave the shiny city behind. First, we go through an unkept park, with large trees and foliage, and broken benches and swings, and then we reach a hilly terrain with loose gravel on the road. Priyanka says it reminds her of Udaipur. 

There, on the road, I see a large rose-like flower made of wool, or maybe it’s a fancy hat. As is my wont, I pick it up. It feels nice, I think I will keep it. Then my fingers touch something slimy, like spit, like mucus. I throw it away and wipe my fingers on my trousers. I do not tell Priyanka about it. 

We chitchat about something or other, nothing serious, all good, something about Soumya Agarwal getting married again. We wish her well.

Then I start to feel weird, woozy. Like I haven’t eaten in days. Like I would fall asleep right now.

Then we reach a huge temple courtyard. As we reach the temple, Priyanka notices one of her friends. Not her friend exactly. She calls her one of her readers, whatever that means. The friend is excited to see her and drags her to meet her in-laws. She is surrounded by a whole lot of older women. 

I want to go find a tea stall. I think some tea will do me good. I want to tell Priyanka that I will be back in a jiffy, but I am faced with a stern-looking older woman. I tell her to tell Priyanka that I will be back, but I doubt that she would. 

There are no tea shops in the large temple complex. So I enter into one of the small gullies, like the gullies of Benares. I find a small tea shop in a hole in the wall, with just the old tea seller, and his black cat. I ask for tea and he immediately gives me a glass of lukewarm tea. I ask him to make another cup and ask if he has khari to go with the tea. He shows me an assortment of locally-made breads and cakes, all of which look unappetising. So, he says he will make me a cheese sandwich. 

The sandwich tastes especially good, soft, melts in the mouth, the way I like it. Even the lukewarm tea feels nourishing. 

As I savour the sandwich, the aforementioned cat inches close to me and tries to take the sandwich away from me. 

In response, I bite into his outstretched paw and suddenly, the cat turns into a child, about six years old, naked except for a diaper. Then he says in a clear voice, ‘Ouch! You bit me. Why?’

‘Because you wanted to bite me,’ I reply, oblivious to the metamorphosis. As if the child was always there and there was never a cat.

‘Now, I will bite you,’ the child says. He grabs my right hand and bites my ring finger. His teeth are sharp. My finger pricks and a drop of blood falls on the mud floor between the kid and me. And oh, we are both sitting on the floor.

Now, suddenly, I feel better. Now, I want to get back to the temple knowing that Priyanka would be concerned about me and she has no way to reach me. I pay the shopkeeper and get ready to leave.  

Then the child holds my hand and asks me to wait. I need to do something first before leaving. 

Thus, begins a hero’s journey, I suppose, but I woke up!