"Alfred Marshall says that prices are influenced by the market forces of demand and supply," Ms. Simon droned on.

I was sleepy. I had been up all night, watching movies with Sheena and Neeta. It had been a wonderful party at their place. I had enjoyed myself. And I could not believe it when Akshay had asked me to dance with him. And I had let myself go.

And now, the hangover was taking its toll on me. I could barely keep my eyes open. Sometime in between, I heard Ms. Simon admonishing Vikky for throwing a paper ball at her.

~*~

He was chasing me again. And I was running like a deranged maniac. There was a gawking laceration on my abdomen and blood was flowing out of it. I was semi-conscious, trying to get away from the bloodthirsty devil. I ran and ran until I was sure that I had shaken him off my back. Suddenly, I clenched my fist and turned around, as I felt a reverberating blow on my face.

I woke up with a start. I found the anxious faces of Ms. Simon and all my classmates peering down at me. I looked around, confused.

I found myself lying on the ground, in the college corridor that led to the hostel. I was bathed in sweat, and when I looked down at my palm, I gasped. There was a knife in my hand.

"Wh… what happened?" I stuttered.

"That's what we would like to know, Sharon," said Ms. Simon sternly.

A few hours later, I was in Dr. Ranjan's clinic. Ms. Simon was seated across the table. Sister Filomina, the warden, was also with us.

"Well, Sharon is suffering from a disease called somnambulism, which is a sleep disorder characterized by walking or other activity while seemingly still asleep," said Dr. Ranjan.

Ms. Simon and Sr. Filomina exchanged worried glances. The doctor went on, "If you recollect, Sharon insisted on getting a single room in the hostel when she joined. And she paid more money to see that she got one for herself. That was because she did not want anyone to know about her problem."

"But how do you know, doctor?" asked Sister Filomina.

"I checked the hostel records. And I did a lot of background work subsequent to my meeting with Sharon," said the doctor with a smile.

He looked at me. I was looking at him with a shocked expression that seemed to accuse him blatantly of spying on me behind my back. His smile faded, and he said softly, "Sharon, I am only trying to help you. At times, when I need to get to the bottom of an issue, my profession warrants that I do some sleuthing. I am sorry to have invaded into your privacy, if you think so, but I would still maintain that it was essential."

"What else have you been doing behind my back," I spat venomously.

"Relax Sharon," he said calmly. "I did not do anything with the intention of hurting your sentiments or troubling you. I followed you last week, and kept an eye on your hostel room."

"What?" I was aghast. This was the last thing I had expected from someone like Dr. Ranjan!

He went on, "That night, I noticed you coming out of your room around midnight, apparently walking in a trance. You walked to the field adjacent to the corridor that joins the classroom section to the hostel building. And there, you started digging, just beneath the banyan tree near the compound wall. And that's where you got the knife from, every time you woke up."

I was trembling by now. It was too hard to believe.

"And then, you went back into the room. I could not see anything for a few minutes after that. I guessed that you might have woken up to find the knife and then fallen asleep again. Because, a few minutes later, I saw you coming out of your room again, in the same hypnotic state. You walked up to the same tree, and buried the knife back in the same place."

He looked at my quivering body and tremulous expression, and asked, "Sharon, don't you want your problem to be solved? Don't you want to lead a normal, happy life again?"

I nodded slowly. I suddenly realized that I had approached him for help, and not the other way round. He did have every right to spy on me, in order to solve the mystery. Besides, he had taken the trouble to stay awake all night trying to piece together the bits of the jigsaw puzzle called "my life."

"So do you want to know the whole story?" he asked mysteriously.

"You mean, you know what my problem is?" I asked, utterly bewildered.

He smiled. Then he said, "Yes, Sharon. I know."

"Sharon, somnambulism usually involves baseless hallucinations and mental fantasies based on unfulfilled desires of the patient, stemming from the subconscious mind. However, in your case, it is not purely a figment of your imagination. Your nightmares are not just empty dreams. They are real pictures of something that transpired a long while ago. They are shadows from your past." He paused.

I was too stunned to even move. What was he trying to say?

Dr. Ranjan got up from his chair and walked up to where I was seated. He sat down gingerly beside me, and said, "Sharon…"

I looked at him with fear in my eyes. Surely, I was not prepared for what he was about to say.

"Sharon, my child… When you were a baby, your parents were killed. They were brutally murdered by your mother's relatives simply because of the fact that they had an inter-religious marriage against the wishes of their parents."

I gasped. All these years, I had lived under the impression that my parents had died in an accident, and that was how I had landed in the orphanage, which had taken care of me, educated me and brought me up. This was too much of a blow.

He continued, "They were both stabbed to death, and you witnessed the whole ghastly episode. You were just ten months old then, and the images of those brutes hacking your parents to death apparently got etched in your memory. And those terrible memories come back to haunt you to this day."

Dr. Ranjan went on, "Sharon, I would not have told you this even today. But then, I think the only solution to your problem is to accept the truth and consciously make an effort to get over it. I know it will be difficult, but not impossible. I will help you to get over it. And then, you can lead a normal, happy life."

I was crying hysterically. Dr. Ranjan motioned Ms. Simon and Sr. Filomina to step out. Then he came to me and said gently, "Sharon, do you know what you need the most at this point?"

I shook my head. He looked at me and said, "A friend."

Just then, the door to his chamber opened, and the most unexpected person stepped in. I snorted in amazement, "Akshay!"

"Yes, Sharon. Akshay is here to help you. And that is not because I asked him to. It is because he cares about you. He is your true friend Sharon, and I am sure that you'll bounce back to normalcy with his help and support," said Dr. Ranjan.

I could not believe what I had just heard. I looked at Akshay and smiled. He smiled back. And I realized that it was a genuine, warm smile that seemed to say, "Sharon, I care."

~*~

And sure enough, a few months later, I stopped getting those nightmares completely. Whether it was the doctor's medication or Akshay's support that worked wonders, is a subject worth contemplation. A couple of years later, Akshay proposed marriage, and I was simply delighted.

Seven years later…

"Sharon, give me coffee!" ordered Akshay, in one of his MCP tones.

"!!#$!! You lazy bum, come and get your own coffee! I need to get the baby in bed…" I retorted like the typical wife.

"Oh Sharon! Be the ideal wife… serve me coffee…" mocked Akshay in a complaining tone.

And together, we laughed.