One by one, the others stood. Mano stretched and yawned. The rooftop emptied slowly, laughter and footsteps trailing behind.
Back in the psychology classroom, Aarya slipped into her seat. Her face was calm, her posture perfect—but her fingers tapped restlessly on her notebook.
Meanwhile, Bhairava and Mano returned to their journalism class. The room was a mess of post-lunch chaos. Half the students were chatting loudly, a few were dozing off, and others were tossing crumpled paper like it was a playground.
Mano dropped into his seat with a sigh, rubbing his temples. "Why is the class so loud?" he muttered.
Bhairava slid into the desk beside him, glancing around. "Because the class rep isn't here to play traffic cop."
Mano looked up. "Where did he go?"
Bhairava shrugged, his tone casual but laced with amusement. "Who knows. Maybe the lovebirds are off romancing somewhere." He glanced at the empty desk where Devi usually sat and smiled.
Kiran and Devi both missing. Mano followed Bhairava's gaze, then rolled his eyes. "Shut up."
Bhairava smiled and pinched his own hand gently, deliberately. Testing the sting. Still here.
Then his eyes drifted to the clock hanging on the wall. He watched the second-hand tick forward, slow and steady.
Mano, slouched in his seat, glanced sideways. "Why are you doing this often?"
Bhairava blinked, pulled from his thoughts. "Doing what?"
Mano frowned, gesturing vaguely. "You know… pinching yourself, staring at your hand on the written letter.You've been doing it a lot lately. What's going on?"
Bhairava gave a small smile. "I told you earlier, I'm preparing for lucid dreaming."
Mano raised an eyebrow. "Lucid dreaming? You mean… controlling your dreams? Is that even possible?"
Bhairava looked at him, thoughtful. He searched for words that wouldn't sound like riddles.
"What's the difference between dream and reality?" he asked.
Mano leaned back, thinking. "Hmm… sleep?"
Bhairava chuckled softly. "No. It's consciousness." He leaned in, voice calm and deliberate. "When you're in deep sleep, your conscious mind shuts down. That's when your subconscious takes over. It pulls data from your brain—memories, emotions, fragments of thought—and turns them into dreams."
Mano blinked. "So… like a movie made by my brain?"
Bhairava smiled. "Exactly. But the trick is, if you can become aware inside that movie, if you can realize you're dreaming, then you can shape it. That's lucid dreaming."
Mano's eyes widened. "Hmm… now I get it. But how do you know you're dreaming while you're inside it?"
Bhairava leaned forward, his voice calm and deliberate. "That's the first step, you have to train your conscious mind to become aware inside the dream. To do that, you start by remembering your dreams. When you think about them, even fragments, it feeds into your conscious awareness."
Mano scratched his head. "Think about the dream? I barely remember what I dreamt last night."
Bhairava nodded. "That's normal. Within five minutes of waking up, most people forget about 50% of their dream. After ten minutes, it's closer to 90%. That's why you need to write it down immediately—anything you remember. A place, a person, an object, even a feeling."
He paused, then added, "Your dreams are a blend of reality and fantasy. Writing them helps your brain recognize patterns. So next time you see something familiar in a dream, your conscious mind might wake up inside it."
Mano leaned back, impressed. "So, you're writing all your dreams every morning?" Then, with a grin, "Okay, what kind of dream did you have yesterday?"
Bhairava looked down, his fingers curling slightly. His voice dropped. "Actually… I don't remember it clearly. I know I had a dream, but it felt strange. Maybe something bad. I don't really want to talk about it."
Mano glanced at him, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. "Then… what's the next step?"
Bhairava straightened slightly, his tone shifting back to thoughtful. "The next step is becoming aware through physical sensation or through habit."
Mano tilted his head. "What do you mean?"
Bhairava explained, "You can't rely only on your conscious mind to wake up inside a dream. You have to train your subconscious to help trigger that awareness."
Mano frowned, clearly puzzled. "Train the subconscious to wake the conscious? How's that even possible?"
Bhairava smiled faintly. "You've heard of muscle memory, right? When you repeat an action enough times, your body starts doing it automatically even without thinking. That's your subconscious at work."
He continued, "So, if you pinch your hand every hour during the day, it becomes a habit. Your subconscious stores that action. Eventually, you'll start doing it even when you forget because your body remembers. And since your subconscious follows you into dreams, it'll perform the same action there too."
Mano leaned in, intrigued. "Okay… but how does that help in a dream?"
Bhairava's eyes lit up. "Here's the trick: in a dream, you won't feel pain. So if you pinch your hand in a dream and feel nothing, that's your cue. Your conscious mind will recognize something's off—and wake up inside the dream."
He paused, letting the idea settle. "It's like using your subconscious as a messenger. It performs the action, and when the expected result, pain is missing, your conscious mind snaps into awareness."
Mano sat back, absorbing it. "That's… clever. So the body teaches the mind to wake up?"
Bhairava nodded. "Exactly. It's a bridge between worlds habit in reality triggering awareness in the dream."
He glanced at the clock on the classroom wall, then continued. "And there's another thing… time."
Mano raised an eyebrow. "Time?"
Bhairava nodded slowly. "Think about it. From the moment we were born till now, have you ever clearly seen a clock in a dream? Not just sensed time passing, but actually looked at a watch or a wall clock and read the time?"
Mano blinked, then shook his head. "No… I don't think I ever have."
Bhairava leaned back, his gaze distant. "Exactly. Time behaves strangely in dreams. It's fluid, fragmented. Most people can't read a clock in a dream. The numbers blur, shift, or vanish. So if you train yourself to check the time regularly while awake - every hour, every time you enter a room, your subconscious picks up that habit."
He paused, then added, "And one day, inside a dream, your subconscious will prompt you to look for the time. But when you try… you won't be able to read it. That moment of confusion, that's your doorway. Your conscious mind will recognize the glitch."
Mano's eyes widened. "So, it's like a test. If the world doesn't behave the way it should, you realize you're dreaming."
Bhairava smiled faintly. "Exactly."
He raised his hand again, showing the letter 'A' written on the back. "This is my anchor. I look at it often. One day, in a dream, I'll look at my hand and the letter will be distorted or missing. That's the moment I'll know I'm dreaming."
He leaned back, voice calm. "It's all about repetition. When you repeat an action enough, it becomes part of your subconscious. And when that action shows up in a dream, it can trigger awareness. You'll feel the shift."
Mano's eyes widened, his face lit with excitement. "Wow… that's amazing. So we can actually live inside our dreams?"
Bhairava smiled. "Not exactly. But we can wake up inside them. And once we do… we can explore, shape our own dream."
Mano leaned forward, eyes wide with curiosity. "So… did you manage to control your dream? How was it? Tell me!"
Seeing Mano's excitement, Bhairava gave a sheepish smile and raised his eyebrows. "Hold on—I've only just started practicing. I haven't been able to control anything yet."
Mano sat back, a little disappointed. "Oh… okay."
Bhairava's voice softened, reassuring. "But even without practice, most people experience at least one lucid dream in their life—whether they realize it or not. Research says it's common. You might've had one already and just forgotten. If you think back carefully, you might remember a moment where you knew you were dreaming."
Mano rested into his seat, thoughtful. "Hmm… I don't think I've had the chance."
The rest of the afternoon drifted by in laughter and lightness. The classroom buzzed with energy—students chatting, tossing paper balls, playing games in the corridor. For a while, the weight of lectures and deadlines disappeared.
Then the bell rang, clear and final, marking the end of the college day.