An old dream

This happened early one September morning twelve years ago. I woke up sobbing from a really bad dream asking for my brother. He had gone on a trip somewhere and was due back home that day. I didn't even know that he was not around. For about ten minutes I couldn't speak and I know I really scared my parents with my unceasing sobbing. My father did the only thing he could do and prayed with me. By the time he finished praying, I had calmed down and it was almost as if all the earlier drama had not happened, because suddenly I felt really calm. And then, I described my dream to them.

My brother was driving his car down a coastal road. Two other men were in the car with him. I remember the details of the road even now. Somewhere near a milestone or a culvert, a truck travelling at tremendous speed crashed into the car, killing my brother instantly. Some passers-by took them all to the Alleppey Medical College Hospital. An uncle of mine was the principal. He, of course, recognised my brother, and called home immediately. I heard him tell my father that my brother was very badly injured. And I wondered why he was saying that, because he was lying there, with no life left in him. That's when I woke up sobbing.

My father went and looked out into the front yard and told me - 'His car is there, so he must have returned at night.' ( My brother lived next door with his family.) Anyway, we prayed again and I went off to work a little later. At around ten in the morning, my brother walked in and told my mother that he had had the strangest experience that morning. And my mother replied that if he was talking about strange, there was quite an incident at home that morning too.

My brother's strange story was that when he was returning home from somewhere south, driving down the Alleppey coastal road, he suddenly had this very strong feeling that he just had to stop the car. So he did. And then he told his friend who was with him that he wanted to get out of the car, so they both got out and sat down on a culvert by the side of the road. It took about ten minutes for the strange feeling to wear off and when he felt all right, they resumed their trip back home. But his friend insisted on driving. This ten minutes coincided almost exactly with the ten minutes that I spent sobbing and calling him.

He had planned to take his car and another friend was to have joined them on the trip, but when the finally left, they took his friend's car and there were only two of them. So when my father looked out and saw his car, and we assumed he was at home, he was actually sitting by the roadside.

I have never tried to find an explanation for this. When you love someone, can the connections be that strong? Did my crying reach him and make him stop the car? Did that prevent a possible accident? I don't know. I'll never know. I still remember that dream vividly - as if I was an unseen watcher and I'm just glad, he got home safely that morning.