The Niyati

I hardly ever remember my dreams, but that morning was different. It stuck with me, tugging at my brain as I percolated the coffee, showered quickly, and slipped on my sensible slacks and blouse.   

Lying down on a rough surface, I had been looking up at a sky laden with menacing clouds while millions of feathers floated down, pirouetting above me, settling on my forehead, tickling my nose and mouth, and finally stifling my breathing, until I had awoken, gasping for breath. The vivid and heavenly experience had not been a blissful one but rather had left me with a sense of crushing anxiety.  

As I stepped into the lobby at my workplace, Ned, the security guard, wasn’t there to greet me with his usual smile. I walked past the desk area heading towards the lifts wondering if Ned was sick when I spotted a man in uniform crouched behind the desk, rummaging through the drawers.  

‘Ahem, good morning. Where’s Ned? Is he okay?’  

The man shot up, dropping a set of keys attached to a key ring with a red tag, and spun around to face me. ‘Ned, oh yes, he’s fine… I mean, not that fine, he’s off sick for the day.’   

The man had sickly pale skin and sunken eyes; his smile kept twitching as if he had lost control of his lips. The security guard's uniform hung on him like a suit on a skeleton.  

‘Oh dear, I’m sorry to hear that. I don’t think Ned’s ever been off sick. Not since I’ve been here, in any case.’   

I’m not comfortable with change. With the memory of the vivid dream still lingering, I found the man creepy with his haunted looks and gaunt figure. I shuddered.   

He shrugged. ‘I don’t know what to say, ma’am, I just got called in to sub, early this morning.’  

I nodded, offering a contrived smile. My stomach was churning, and I shivered despite the stifling temperature.  

‘Well, have a good morning Mr…?’  

He did his twitching smile works again. ‘Joe, you can call me Joe.’  

‘Joe, right?’ But it didn’t seem right. Nothing seemed right this morning. My paranoia was prevailing again. Since Nick and I had separated eighteen months ago, I was obsessed with the whys and hows. Needing explanation for the inexplicable.   

Clutching my stomach, I stumbled over the threshold of the open lift, pushed the button for the fourth floor, and stared at the flashing lights as they shifted from one number to the next.  

On entering the open space office of Waterways Press, where I had been working as an assistant editor since the divorce, the dream came back to me so forcefully that I half expected to be buried in the swirling feathers.   

I headed for the coffee machine. A caffeine boost was what I needed to shake off the feeling of urgency. The coffee machine, located in a small recess to the left of the open space area and opposite the editor’s office, had gone.   

I pulled my coat tight across my body. This was just what I did not need. Another bad sign. I don’t believe in coincidences.  

‘Don’t look so glum Heather, you’ll have your coffee by this afternoon,’ Matt, our freelance photographer, said with an impish grin.  

‘But it’s practically new!’  

Matt shrugged and headed towards the exit, slinging a large black canvas bag over his shoulder. ‘The coffee wasn’t to die for, anyway! Hope they change the whole damn machine.’ He waved as he sauntered out of the office. I could have done with some of his wit this morning.  

I stood there staring at the empty space, trying to ignore the ominous cloud that had been hovering over me since the dream. Sam, the editor of our glamour magazine, came up behind me.  

‘Where the f... is the coffee machine? We got it just a month ago.’  

‘Yeah, weird right?’  

‘Nothing weird about that, just a pain in the arse.’  

Sam had no idea what it was like to speak without swearing. It didn’t usually get to me, but this morning it did. ‘It is weird. The coffee machine goes missing. Ned downstairs is sick. I have a bad feeling about all this. Who was it who called the company to pick it up when it broke down, anyway?’  

‘How the hell should I know? They’d better get it back pronto; I need fuel throughout the day. Guess I’ll pop down to Pam’s coffee corner and grab a latte. Want one? You look like you need one.’  

I shook my head, still possessed by the invisible coffee machine.  

‘Are you okay?’   

I resurfaced from my trance. ‘No, I’m not okay. It’s just bizarre ... I don’t like weird coincidences.’  

Sam rolled her eyes and left me there muttering to myself. Stuff her. She would be the last person to understand if something was wrong. She had the skin of an ox.  

The rest of the morning was one tumbling stone after another. Procrastination never left my side as I battled through the article I had to write for the chief editor by early afternoon. I got up at around ten o’clock. My shoulders were aching, and my right leg wouldn’t stop jiggling. Rubbing my frozen hands, I headed towards the toilets. I clutched both sides of the washbasin and stared at the mirror. All I could see in the reflection were the images from the dream. Finally, I turned the tap on and reached for the soap lever while examining my bloodshot eyes. No soap came out. I tried pulling the lever to the second soap dispenser. Nothing. I am a hand-washer maniac since COVID and have become obsessed with sanitation. This, too, did not bode well.  

No coffee, no Ned, and no soap, all in one morning.   

My sister Judy says I’ve become paranoid since my split up and her husband’s death. In retrospect, my life had come off the rails. After Jake’s death. I don’t believe in coincidences. And now the dream.  

I tapped on Judy’s number. No answer. I left a message and returned to my desk, determined to sweep aside the feeling of imminent doom. The foreboding would not let go. It swelled like the rising tide of a stormy sea, encroaching, drawing closer and closer.   

I skipped lunch, ploughing through the article about the Importance of Religious Communities in Socially Deprived Neighbourhoods when I came across a website portraying iconic religious symbols. An image caught my eye. It was blurred when I zoomed in, so I copy-pasted the name and tapped on the images tab on the google search page. And there it was, the symbol in my dream. It sprung up like flames snapping and licking at the screen. I lurched back involuntarily.   

I had forgotten the image until now. It had appeared as a shadow in the background of the multitude of gyrating feathers; at first a pale gloom like the moon caught behind a shrouding cloud, then its light had intensified until it was fiery red. A second later, it had vanished. How could I have forgotten that?  

The symbol consisted of two concentric circles, with the inner one split in half, each half forming a sort of labyrinth. I read the description, ‘The Niyati, a Hindu symbol of the cosmic force that determines all events, including an individual’s fate.’  

Fate. I shuddered. What was mine? I was still reeling from the divorce and had become neurotic in the process. But again, this nagging voice told me there was something lurking behind the curtain.  

My phone buzzed. I was relieved to see my sister’s smiling image appear on the screen. I tapped the video call icon.  

‘You look awful, Heather!’  

‘Gee, thanks, Judy. Just what I need right now.’  

‘You know, I only say that when I’m worried about you. I couldn't make heads or tails of your message.’  

‘Look, Judy, I know it sounds weird, but I had this dream… no, it was more than a dream… and that symbol.’  

‘It would help if you gave me a bit more context.’  

‘It’s not just that. It’s… well, it’s everything today. Things are weird at the office. The guard has gone, the coffee machine too, now this symbol has reappeared.... like an omen.’  

While I detailed the dream and the foreboding events that followed, I could see her frown and shake her head.  

‘Maybe you should get in touch with the psychologist you were seeing this winter? I think you’re underestimating the effect this divorce is having on you.’  

‘You lost your husband in an accident for god’s sake and you’re not losing it, so why should I be?’ I immediately regretted my outburst. I knew that even if she didn’t speak much about the accident, she was still suffering the effects of the aftermath.  

‘I’m sorry, Judy. This has nothing to do with my psychological state. This is a stronger, deeper sense of foreboding. My brain is buzzing as if an alarm system has gone off somewhere.’  

‘It’s okay Heather, I understand. Let’s meet for lunch tomorrow and we’ll laugh this day off over a pizza.’  

I put my phone down and rested my chin in my hands, staring at the Nyati symbol. What is my fate?  

I finished my article around four o’clock and having skipped lunch and the usual four or five coffees, my stomach was craving food. Most of my colleagues had gone home, leaving only five of us in the office, Sam, Alex, the chief editor, Rob the sports reporter, and Mandy the secretary; Matt would swing by after five, as he usually did. I was looking forward to that.  

I headed towards the toilets, passing the empty space where the coffee machine was still waiting to be replaced. A shiny object in the corner caught my attention. I was sure it hadn’t been there before. I drew nearer. It was a set of keys. Remembering this morning’s encounter with Joe the security guard, I was quite sure they were the same set of keys he had dropped by the front desk.  

Now, why would they be here? My cell phone vibrated in my hand, and I dropped it. It landed next to the keys.  

A message from my sister. ‘Meet me at Pam’s coffee place in ten minutes. It might be important.’  

Forgetting the keys, with my heart thumping, I grabbed my coat and handbag and hurried towards the lift.  

Sam looked up as I strode past her desk, her eyebrows raised. ‘It’s early, isn’t it?’  

I ignored her sarcasm and stared through her until the lift doors closed.  

I ordered a large latte, the first one of the day. I figured I needed a treat. My leg was doing its shaky business as it does when I’m over-stressed. I checked the entrance every few seconds. Finally, I took a sip.  

‘Sorry, had to hassle through some traffic.’   

I nearly spilt the latte. I hadn’t noticed Judy approaching. ‘Jeez, you scared the hell out of me.’  

Judy sat down opposite me. This morning’s serene and smiling face had transfigured. Her eyes reflected a deep sadness and the lines around her mouth were etched deeply on her pale skin.  

‘Look, I thought about what you said this morning… something kept nagging at me. I couldn’t pin it down, and then I did.’   

She rummaged in her handbag and pulled out a small box, placing it on the table between us. She looked at me, then at the box.  

‘Open it.’ Her voice was like a stage whisperer's.  

It was like a box you would use for a jewellery gift. I carefully lifted the lid. I gasped, nearly dropping it. The symbol I had dreamed of, the Niyati, lay cushioned in blue velvet. This was no coincidence.  

Judy’s eyes met mine. There was an intensity, a flame of challenge that I hadn’t seen since Jake’s death. Her face was flushed as she reached out for my hand, squeezing it a little too hard.  

‘This was the object I saw in my dream. It glowed red and then faded out.’  

Judy nodded, still squeezing my hand. ‘That was the only object to survive the explosion after Jake’s car crash. Everything was destroyed except for his lucky charm, as he called it.’ Her eyes dropped. ‘It didn’t save him, though.  

‘It must be linked with my dream somehow. Fire and fate. My fate?’  

My phone vibrated on the table, but I was too focused on the object to bother with messages.   

A powerful wave of horror washed over me. Destiny, fate, the cosmic force that determines all events… what was that exactly and what was it that I was not seeing?  

The phone vibrated again. I picked it up automatically and checked the message.  

A message from Matt. It was a picture of a coffee machine. I looked closer; puzzled at first, not recognising or having any context in which to fit it. The caption clarified that and made me smile for the first time that day.  

‘Want a coffee? This one’s really to die for!’ followed by a winking emoji.  

I stared at the photo and zoomed in on the new coffee machine. Why get a new one? Surely the company would repair the original one? They had delivered it new only a few months before. Then I remembered the keys lying on the floor in the coffee machine area, the keys the security guard had dropped by the desk in the lobby. Why had they been in our office unless the man had been up there? My leg set off jiggling again and my heart began pounding, resonating in my ear, drowning that persistent voice that kept surfacing from within. ‘Get them out of there.’  

With shaking hands, I tapped on Matt’s message and pressed the call button.  

‘Get out of there now, all of you... Just get out for Christ’s sake.’  

I burst into tears, trembling so violently that the phone crashed onto the table. Judy wrapped her arms around me and stroked my hair. I sobbed and sobbed, not knowing why, a victim of my senseless obsession, my fear of helplessness. Wrapped in each other’s arms, we both spilt those tears we had kept trapped for too long.  

A thunderous boom blasted our ears out. The shaking and trembling that followed sent my phone flying off the table. Screams resounded in the café. The ringing in my ears was so loud it disoriented me, and I crashed to the ground. Judy was saying something, but I could only see her lips moving. We scrambled out of the café onto the sidewalk.  

We stood there hugging each other as we took in the scene. It instantly catapulted me back to my dream. Thousands, millions of white flecks, were cascading down from the building opposite the café. The dream. I looked up. The fourth floor had disappeared.  

‘Oh my god,’ Judy hugged me so hard I could hardly breathe. ‘My god, Heather.’ Words were futile.  The missing floor was where Waterways Press had been and was no more. I scrolled to Matt’s last message, the one with the photo of the coffee machine. He had unknowingly called on his tragic fate in his message. It had definitely been to die for.  

Like two zombies, we plodded over the debris strewn across the street while the feather-like specks danced around us, carefree and indifferent, mocking, and in the distance, the wailing of the emergency services announced the tragedy. I pushed past an officer, barely aware of the approaching flashing lights, the shouts and the acrid smell of smoke billowing from the gaping wound in the building. All I felt was the frost, wrapping its hand around my heart.  

‘Ma’am, wait, you can’t go there!’ I ignored him and shrugged his arm off. ‘Hey wait,’ he shouted.  

‘It’s okay, she’s with us.’ I froze. The incongruity of the voice made me trip over and crash to the pavement. An arm wrapped itself gently around my waist, heaving me up.   

‘Heather.’ It was Matt's voice, but that was impossible. They had just blown up right in front of our eyes.  

I met his dark blue eyes. His cheeky grin lit his face smeared with ash and blood. He nodded towards four figures sitting by the paramedics, each with the standard grey blanket draped over them.  

‘See? I listened to you? Mind, don’t get used to it.’  

My eyes shifted from those huddled together with blankets to Matt and the gaping hole above us.  

‘After your call, I ran to check the coffee machine. That was what seemed to trigger you off. You were right, there was something strange. A loose wire was hanging out from behind. Odd because the machine was supposed to be new, right?’  

I nodded, transfixed, hanging on every word, with Judy next to me squeezing my hand.  

‘I squeeze behind it to check. That was when I spotted the bomb. I saw enough of those when I was reporting in Afghanistan. We were out on the street in under four minutes.’  

I stood there, body numb, ears still ringing, watching as millions of white bits of paper floated around Matt, settling in his hair on his eyebrows, just as they had done in my dream, and that symbol, the symbol of fate scorched into my mind, Jake’s lucky charm. And I realised I had just defeated fate. It was time to leave the ghosts of the past behind me and get on with my life, the one that had just been saved, along with five others because of that dream.