The wind gushing past his face, Aman looked to his right: a cloud floated away into the distance. When he got closer, the fog below had thinned, and he caught sight of a tree towering in the middle of the valley. It was vast in size and width, and a thousand stars glittered on its branches. The entire valley, Aman was sure, was deserted: there was not a being in sight.

Just then, he saw a movement from the corner of his eye. A figure emerged from the shadow of the massive tree. It was a man with a white cloth wrapped around his waist, which flapped in the wind behind him. He lifted his head and looked up at Aman. Aman looked back at the man’s strangely twinkling eyes. He felt a prickling at the nape of his neck, the hairs on his arms bristled, and then his entire body convulsed with a jolt.

The cloud that had been silently floating by him started barking. Yes, like a dog. And just like that, the cloud dissolved, and Aman woke up.

He opened a bleary eye. A dog on the street below was barking its lungs out. Stupid dog. He scowled. It was early in the morning. Aman had woken up away from his rug on the hard floor, drenched in a pool of sweat. He rolled over to his rug to find it no softer. His mother was sleeping on a mattress close by.

Aman’s eyes scanned the room and watched the creaking fan send the cobwebs on the ceiling aflutter. He stretched and stood up. A cool breeze rolled in from the balcony, which made him recall fragments of the dream he had just had. But the more he tried to remember it, the more it slipped away, like a fistful of sand. He felt queasy.

He opened the door and staggered down the hallway, not able to walk straight. He was heading to the shared bathrooms on his floor. He felt nauseous and light-headed—so he picked up speed. Just when he was about to turn left and enter the bathroom, he slipped in a puddle, banging his left knee against the threshold. With a sickening thud, his chin hit the floor, pushing his teeth into his tongue.

Aman’s belly heaved and his tongue felt sour. Somehow, he picked himself up and made it inside the bathroom, where the flickering of the yellow bulb above caused painful flashes behind his eyes. He touched his left knee, and it clicked awkwardly. He had to make it to the washbasin. But when he stood up, a sharp pain vibrated through his left leg and his eyes filled with tears. He plodded forward, limping and clenching his teeth, and just before he reached the tap, his body jerked and vomit shot out of his mouth. A discharge with yellow chunks fell into the basin.

But I didn’t even smoke the joint! What’s happening?

Aman splashed water on his face. He pulled down his cheeks, and as he stared at himself in the mirror through bloodshot eyes, the events of the previous day came rushing to him. The type of person only a mother could love, he thought, wondering if he would ever be seen for himself, as someone other than a traitor’s son.