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Home >> Articles >> Thisa - The story>>Chapter 2.7

Chapter 2.7


It was evening and by then the number of phone calls to Morticia had reduced-by a fraction. When her parents had come home for lunch, they thought that all her friends had forgotten that her birthday was a couple of days away instead of that day itself. But when they realised that most of the phone calls were from Jeena and Leena, they assumed that they were planning for the birthday-bash. But you and I know that it was nowhere close to that.

Leena kept reminding Morticia that it would be unwise of her to accept his proposal because they hardly knew each other, and that most relationships end up in heart breaks; while Jeena was mostly squealing over the phone while sometimes also adding that she partly agreed with Leena. Divya and a few other Hindi students, when they heard the news, called to know how it all happened and then said that it was really cute or that they were extremely surprised. But most of all, everyone wanted to know what she had said to him when he said that he loved her. Morticia just changed the subject.

She was standing in the darkness, all alone, in a long flowing white gown made of a material as smooth as silk, but not silk. Her hair was like a river flowing slowly down from her scalp, soft and smooth. She looked around at the darkness…it started raining. But what she thought were water drops, were pieces of something between paper and cloth. They had words on them. One fell on her half-hidden palm. She looked closer at the piece of writing sitting on the soft frills of her white 5 feet wide sleeve. But as soon as she did so, it stopped raining and it was pitch darkness again…except the tiny speck of light coming from a distance. She walked toward the light and came to a still lake. She bent down to touch the water and felt herself being pulled into the water. Before she knew it, she found herself inside the lake, her hair gracefully flying in all directions. She was breathing. And before she knew it, she was out of the lake, completely dry. Her feet touched the ground that somehow felt soft. She closed her eyes tightly and opened them to see the ceiling of her room. She looked around her room. She realised that she was holding something in her hand. She opened her fist to see the piece of writing that had fallen into her hand in her dream. She read what was written on it. Only after deep sorrow comes true joy.

Morticia read it twice in the light of the lamp on the side table, groaned, kept the piece of paper or cloth or whatever it was on the side table, turned to the other side and went back to sleep. If she had been sleep walking or writing or whatever, it did not matter right now. That could be thought of the next day.

Jeena read it again and again looking at her ten-year-old sister Jaana time and again, in the light of the night light. Could this have been her doing? If it was, then she was in for trouble, big time. But then how could she have known what Jeena saw in her dream? What if she was an evil genius who could find out what people saw in their dreams? No, that was a little too farfetched, even for Ms. Perfect, Jaana. Jeena yawned. Whatever it was, she would have to think of it in the morning. She kept it under her pillow and went back to sleep

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