JOURNEY

Everything felt perfect—more than ideal. Every flower bloomed—not a single bud left behind. The river flowed steadily with a perfect, peaceful rhythm. The sky was more than pleasant, with bright light illuminating every corner. The light was soothing, warm, and calming. The wind blew with such heavenly peace that it felt like her breathing was sinking and flowing with it, dancing in its joy. The birds chirped their melodies, and the animals roamed freely without any fear. It was a picture-perfect scene. But wasn’t it too perfect to be true?
When Diksha looked around closely, she noticed it didn’t feel natural. How can a lion be friends with a deer? How can every flower bloom? She walked ahead alongside the river. The plants swayed, mimicking the gentle wind. As she walked, a sweet, floral scent wafted along the way, keeping her company. Over time, the wind grew colder, more pleasant, and soothing. The place was magical, almost like a fairy tale land.
Diksha walked until her feet hurt. When she could walk no more, she sat under a beautiful tree with an unbelievably huge trunk and tiny leaves. The grass beneath her was warm and soft like cotton. She closed her eyes and dozed off, knowing the dream would escape her real world. However, when she woke up, nothing had changed. Diksha felt the same peaceful and magical aura. Fruits were piled up in front of her. Like someone knew she had the habit of eating a fruit for breakfast. Without thinking much, she ate one. It was irresistibly tasty—the best fruit she had ever had in her life. Diksha stood up and looked around. The soothing atmosphere brought a wide smile to her sleepy face. She watched her feet. The mud beneath her feet was soft and wet. Did it rain? She thought and began walking ahead. She needed to find out where she was and if such a beautiful and unreal world was indeed real. After walking a few miles, she found a hut covered with hay. She smiled as she approached it. There was no door to it. Diksha peeked inside, but found no one. No living arrangements, utensils, clothes, water—nothing at all. It only had a small sitting area on the ground, covered with grass. Sunlight glowed through a small window that had a swastika sign engraved on it. Yet, while she was there, she felt a presence. A gentle and friendly presence. She lingered some more and stepped out. A huge tree stood to the right of the entrance, welcoming Diksha with a Namaste. The branches bent down to form a Namaste sign— or so it seemed to her. She walked closer and observed the branches. She felt like they were all smiling at her, and she smiled back. Within seconds, the branches formed a canopy, as though indicating something. She noticed a sitting area beneath the tree, beautifully painted in red, covered with grass. She instinctively sat on the grass, looked up at the canopy, and closed her eyes.
The doorbell rang, sending shivers down Diksha’s spine. Her body shuddered. She was scared to open her eyes, not knowing what was happening. The bell rang again. It felt like an indication for her to open her eyes. She struggled for a while and opened them. For a moment, everything went hazy. She felt as if her heart leaped out of her chest. Suddenly, she realized she was home—the same home Diksha had lived in for 40 years.
“I had a wonderful dream last night.”
Diksha said while washing her hands.
“Is it? I am surprised you could sleep. What time did you leave last night?”
“Around 2, I guess.”
“It's 7 am. How did you manage to come in this early? Besides, you look well-rested. Surprising.” Shankar said, glancing at his wrist watch. Diksha gave it some thought, praising her energy level as she wiped her hands thoroughly.
“I am guessing you didn’t sleep at all,” Diksha said as she sat on her desk chair.
“Nope,” Shankar said, managing a weak smile. He buried his head and frantically wrote notes on the medical chart. He handed the signed file to the on-duty nurse and instructed her to follow the treatment course as mentioned. He looked tired, stressed, and worried.
“You need to catch up on your sleep, Doctor.”
“Much needed. By the way, did you check on the baby? How’s he doing?”
“He is fine, and the pediatrician is on his way. I don’t think he needs to be shifted to NICU, but I shall let the pediatrician take a call.”
“Sure. I heard the mother went hysterical last night?”
“She was worried for her baby, Shankar. That’s how mothers are.”
“I know. My mother still treats me like a 5-year-old.”
Diksha smiled as she filled her cup with coffee.
“The nurse told me the mother specifically asked for you. And the moment she saw you, she calmed down.”
“Yeah.”
“This is not the first time that this has happened here. I don’t know what magic you do.”
“There is no magic. The mothers like me. I can emotionally connect, I guess.” Diksha replied as she shrugged and winked.
“Everybody here likes you. That’s not news to me. Anyway, I’ll take your leave. Please cover my patients, Diksha. Will you?”
“Sure. Go on. Get some rest.”
Diksha focused on her work. However, the dream was making her restless. She found herself thinking about it a lot more than required. She didn’t understand what was happening. The day ended early, and she got home. Her restlessness had increased by then. She decided to skip dinner and meditate instead. She wanted to confirm that she was not losing her mind and that what she saw was just a dream. She meditated for an hour, and nothing happened. She didn’t fall asleep and didn’t dream at all.
“What a relief,” she said and went to bed.
However, things didn’t get normal. Once every week, while she meditated, she entered the same beautiful fairy land. The same dream would repeat over and over. Same huge trees, branches in Namaste, fruits, warm soil, flowers, and animals. What puzzled her was that she did get the same dream, but not every night, and not while she slept. She saw the dream while she meditated. Why so?
The pattern continued. The meditation, the dreams, and the restlessness. She often found herself thinking about the meaning behind these dreams. The forest, rivers, birds, huge trees, huts, and delectable fruits. She loved the dream and waited to be in that world. But was there any story to this? Any sign that she wasn’t noticing? What was the dream trying to tell her? What was happening? She spoke to her colleague Shankar, who casually brushed her off, saying that she was an intelligent doctor. How could a doctor think something like that?
“Diksha, its stress, nothing else. Dreams are just fragments of your imagination. I think you deserve a break.” He said, smiling.
Diksha had thought about it, but it didn’t make any sense to her. Being a doctor, she did think about the effects of the stress that she was undergoing, the fatigue, mood swings, and work pressure-ritual fasting. However, she was not new to this field and was used to such a lifestyle. She would be under emotional stress if she were without any work pressure. Then what was it exactly?
Days passed, but the pattern kept repeating. She would sleep late and wake up early, and didn’t feel tired at all. She would go for a jog, deciding to barter her thoughts with the pleasant early mornings. Most of the time, it worked. One such morning, while Diksha’s jogging rhythm synchronized with the chirping birds, her phone vibrated.
“Hey, how are you?”
It was her brother Rohan.
“Hey buddy, I am doing great. Came for a job at the park.” Diksha managed to keep her cool.
“Job?”
“Jog, Jog, Sorry…..” Diksha laughed.
“I thought you decided to change your profession from a doctor to a park watchman. Wow, that would be such a wonderful transition, sister. I could get to see you more often.” Rohan said, laughing loudly. Loud enough for Diksha to hold the mobile handset away from her ears.
“Right, make fun of me if that gives you peace. Blah…” Diksha replied in a childlike tone, rolling her eyes and pouting. Diksha was nearly 8 years older than Rohan, but Rohan was the one to lecture Diksha, pull her legs, laugh at her, protect her, and care for her like an elder brother. Their bond was beautiful and strong.
“Anyway, wanted to check on you. It's been a long time since we met.”
“I know. I miss you, too.”
“Yeah! Tell me about it. I don’t remember the last time you called me Diksha.” Rohan said, trying to sound angry.
“Sorry, you know how it is with my work. Let’s meet up. What say?”
“Sure. Hey, I have a friend visiting me this weekend from Mysuru. He is a psychologist by profession and calls himself a healer.”
“Healer?”
“Yeah, I don’t know what that means to be true. Long story short, he intends to shift to Mumbai and wants to be connected to a few hospitals. I thought I might introduce him to you.”
“Oh! Sure. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Let's meet and speak. Weekend? Dinner? I shall get my friend with me. You need healing on all levels.”
“Yeah. Look who’s talking. But do get him, I am interested in knowing what healing you are talking about.”
“When and where?”
“Well, I’ll have to check my calendar.”
“Seriously, Diksha? Unbelievable. You always do this to me.”
“Stop acting out. Okay, Saturday dinner, at 9 p.m.”
“Perfect.”
“Will you come home?”
“And eat what you cook? I have no intentions of increasing my bathroom trips, and I don’t want my friend to run off.”
“I don’t understand why we are wasting time discussing this. It's just a dinner, Rohan. Okay, how about takeout? That should work, right? We can talk in peace. Suits?”
“Yup.”
“I'd better get going. I am late.” Diksha said as she began walking home.
“Late for what? The watchman’s job?”
Both giggled.
Diksha found herself waiting for the Saturday dinner. She finished her work by 7 pm, reached home, and stood at the entrance looking around the messed up place. It was not even close to being called a home. She placed the food on the kitchen counter and tried her best to arrange the living room. She hated tidying up. It took so much of her time and energy. By the time she was done, it was 8.45 pm. She had no time for a bath. She changed into blue denim and a red shirt, washed her face, and applied light make-up. The doorbell rang at sharp 9 pm. Unlike her brother, whose 9 pm was by default 10 pm.
She opened the door and hugged Rohan. His friend stood by his side, his hands tucked into his jeans pocket. She smiled at him and guided him into the living room.
“This is my sister, Diksha. She is a gynecologist by profession. And she is a real good doctor—or so she says.” Rohan said, winking at his friend.
“I am sure she is a great doctor. Hi Diksha, Ameya here,” he said, going for a handshake.
“Hi, Rohan told me about you. I am more than pleased to meet you. Make yourself at home.” Diksha said, guiding him to the couch. “I am dying to know more about your profession. Rohan says you are a healer. To be true, I don’t know what it means.” Diksha said, pretending to arrange the flowers in the vase. She didn’t know why she was nervous.
“Not many know.”
“Would you like some juice?”
“JUICE?” Rohan questioned uninterestingly.
“Since he is a healer, I am assuming he doesn’t drink,” Diksha said, throwing a pen angrily at Rohan. “It’s wrong to assume, I guess. I don’t even know who a healer is.” She looked apologetically at Ameya.
“Relax, you two. Juice works fine, and I have quit alcohol long ago. Thanks.” He said as he sat comfortably on the couch. “And you are right, Diksha, as a healer, I am not supposed to drink.”
Diksha nodded and headed to the kitchen. Rohan was already unpacking the parcels.
“Gosh! Ameya has changed a ton. He doesn’t drink? I can’t believe him. I am sure he has converted himself to a vegetarian.”
“Vegetarianism is not a religion to convert, idiot. And don’t freak out, I have got vegetarian food anyway.” Diksha poured some orange juice in a glass and headed to the living room. Rohan followed her, looking at the juice glasses with despise.
“So, healer, huh?” Diksha said.
“Healer, yes,” Ameya said as he accepted the juice glass.
“I am keen to know more. What is it that you do?”
“I am a psychologist by profession. I learnt healing from my guru. I was blessed by him before he left for the Himalayas. I have not inherited all his siddhis, and I never will, not during this lifetime. But I believe I can heal people. I can teach them how to meditate, compose, have gratitude, and a positive mindset that can lead them to a successful life.”
“I still don’t follow,” Diksha said, as she handed him a small plate with a Chinese starter. “You are a psychologist. Isn’t that enough? People these days are open when it comes to mental health.”
“They are. You are right. But I am not talking about counselling or therapy here, Diksha. There are things beyond our knowledge. Things that people don’t understand, and medically, we can't do much about.”
“Meaning?”
“Well, there are people who suffer, Diksha. And they don’t know what kind of suffering that is. Like, someone might have a phobia of dogs, heights, balloons, planes, insects, and as a psychologist, I might not be able to offer much help. Because those aren’t just phobias that therapy can heal. There is a story to the suffering, which they do not know. For instance, I come across people complaining of stomach pain, back pain, or knee pain for no apparent reason. Some people deal with a great deal of depression or suicidal thoughts, again, for no apparent reason. There is a great deal of suffering in this world, Diksha, which science or medicine do not have answers to or cannot provide much help.”
“For which even therapy or drugs don’t work?”
“Precisely. Because those are wounds. Deep, untreatable wounds. I call them soul wounds.”
“Soul wounds?”
“Yes. We are all souls, and we all travel. Our bodies are merely temporary homes that we inhabit while we are here on Earth. There are various other planets, galaxies, and dimensions to which our souls journey. We have lived for as many years as the Earth has; it’s just that we are not aware of this. We have come a long way. Every life here serves as a lesson for us to learn. Some lessons we grasp, while others elude us. In some lifetimes, we suffer greatly; in others, not so much. It really depends on what we intend to learn. It’s all our choice—the pain, failures, heartbreaks, suffering—everything, really.”
“Wow…that’s deep.”
“I can sense you intend to ask me something. Go ahead.” Ameya urged.
“How do you know that?”
“We all meet for a reason.” He said with a nod and a faint smile.
“Well, actually, there is something that's been bothering me for a few months now, and I can't figure out what's happening.”
“What are you talking about?” Rohan questioned.
“Relax! Nothing serious. It's about the dreams that I get.”
“Diksha….don’t bore Ameya,” Rohan said as he served rice to Ameya.
“Let her speak, Rohan.”
Diksha made up her mind and told Ameya all about her dreams, ignoring the eye rolls from Rohan.
“How frequently do you have them?”
“Almost every week.”
“When?”
“Night, but not while I sleep. While I meditate.”
“Interesting. Do you meditate every night?”
“Yes.”
“Since?”
“It's been a year now. I have a lot of stress at work, and meditation helps.”
“It does. But you don’t have those dreams every night. Am I right?”
“Right. I don’t think I am making any sense,” Diksha said hesitantly.
“You need not worry about that. Nothing in this world is irrelevant. Everything occurs for a reason, and all that happens around you is interconnected. Could you share more about the nights that you experience these dreams?”
“Like?”
"How is your mood before you sit for meditation? Are you scared, happy, irritated, stressed?”
Diksha thought for a while.
“Now that you ask, I am happy.”
“Any specific time that you meditate? I want you to think only about those times that you have dreams.”
“Well…wait….I think I can answer.” Diksha said as she got up and started pacing around the living room. “As a doctor, I don’t get the liberty to log off and sleep at the same time every night. But most nights, I manage to be home around 10, and I usually meditate for 30 minutes before I sleep. However, on the nights when I have these dreams, I get home late. Around 2 am. Yes……Ameya….every time I have these dreams, I meditate late around 2 or 3 am.”
“Okay.”
“Most mornings, I am still in a meditative posture, but I feel like I have rested enough. In fact, I feel fresh and cheerful. I must say these dreams don’t scare me; I like them. They are blissful.”
“Good. You said your mood is good before you meditate. Why so? What is it that keeps you working late at the hospital, yet gives you happiness? I am sure your work gives you happiness. But this could be something different?”
“Ummmm……”
“Think, Diksha….I am certain those days are different than your usual days.”
“Those are times when a mother goes late into labor. A difficult situation for a normal delivery. Some mothers insist that I be present in the room. They think I am lucky for the birth. I don’t believe in any of this, though.”
“How are the babies born?”
“Normal deliveries. Babies are born without any complications. It is a heart-touching moment to watch them being born in this world. Sometimes, I feel like the babies look at me and smile.”
“Diksha….you are talking bull shit…let’s talk about something else. Sorry, Ameya…my sister is a pain sometimes. I should have warned you.” Rohan said while patting his back.
Ameya ignored him and stared at Diksha.
“Diksha…..now think about your dreams. Are you sure that all your dreams are the same? You must think.”
“Yes……Well……except one. There is one change in every dream. It’s not a big change, though.”
“Doesn’t matter. So what changes?”
“The huts…..the number of huts…they increase with every dream. The first time I saw a hut. The second time, two….and now there are many.” Diksha answered, suddenly realizing that she had not given this much thought earlier. She looked at Ameya, who was smiling at her. To him, it seemed like the puzzle had been solved.
“I beg of you guys….I am feeling like a third wheel here. Please let's change the topic. Let's talk sports.” Rohan switched on the TV and scrolled down the channels.
Diksha and Ameya didn’t speak much. After the dinner, Diksha hugged her brother and shook hands with Ameya, still lost in her thoughts. Ameya looked deeply into her eyes as he spoke in a calm voice. “The world we live in is not a real one, Diksha. The one that you dream….is. This is your journey, and I am not allowed to guide you. You will soon figure out what I am talking about. Just one thing I will add before I leave.” Ameya said.
Diksha looked at him expectantly.
“Do you have any idea as to why the number of huts increase in your dreams?”
Diksha shook her head, her eyes remained fixed on his.
“The more babies you assist in delivering, the greater the number of huts. These are the souls hesitant about entering the world. You welcome them here. You provide them a home.”
Ameya smiled and left with Rohan. Diksha stood at the door, watching him as he walked down the building's stairs. Something changed after that……