[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"doc-seo-320183-105":3,"detail-sidebar-cat-0-en-105":81,"doc-detail-320183-en":131},{"code":4,"msg":5,"data":6},0,"ok",{"site_id":7,"language":8,"slug":9,"title":10,"keywords":11,"description":12,"schema_data":13,"social_meta":74,"head_meta":76,"extra_data":78,"updated_unix":80},105,"en","the-girl-of-my-dreams-320183","The Girl of My Dreams","","The Girl of My Dreams recounts a traumatic accident and its lasting psychological aftermath through the perspective of Daman. A fatal road crash leaves Shreyasi with horrifying injuries in a scene that feels frozen in time, later returning as recurring nightmares. Months later, Daman wakes in distress, takes pills, avoids triggers, and tries to forget details, while family members question his recurring dream and its meaning. 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His first book—Of Course ILove You!—was published when he was twenty-one years old and was an instant bestseller. His successive novels—Now That You ’re Rich!; She Broke Up, I Didn ’t!; Ohh Yes, IAm Single!; You Were My Crush; If It s’ Not Forever; Till the Last Breath ; Someone Like You; Hold My Hand; When Only Love Remains; Worlds’ Best Boyfriend; Our Impossible Love—have also found prominence on various bestseller lists, making him one ofthe highest-selling authors in India.  \nDurjoy also has to his credit nine television shows and has written over a thousand episodes for television.  \nDurjoy lives in Mumbai, loves dogs and is an active CrossFitter. For more updates, you can follow him on Facebook ([www.facebook.com/durjoydatta1or](www.facebook.com/durjoydatta1or Twitter)[ Twitter](www.facebook.com/durjoydatta1or Twitter) (@durjoydatta).  \n1  \nIt happens in an instant andyet everything seems to stretch out interminably.  \nOne moment I’m gazing at her, that pale white face half covered with hair as black as night itselfis smiling at me, and the next I’m urging her to look at the road. The smiles on our faces die out. It s’ too late. A taxi is rushing towards us, driving on the wrong side. She swerves the car to the right to avoid collision and heads towards the divider railing. The taxi too swerves to its right. She corrects course, but it s’ too late. She slams on the brakes and the car makes a dying screech. Something breaks. She is thrown forward. There s’ no seat belt to slow her down as her face smashes against the steering wheel and bends like a half-formed clay mask. Her face scrunches, her jawline contorts, her teeth are knocked out. Her eyes protrude inhumanly. Blood spurts. Itfeels like I can reach out and hold her face but my hands move slowly through the air. I hear my own ribs snap like dry twigs against the impact ofthe seat belt. A shooting pain rises in my chest when the seat belt pushes me back. The world spins outside the windshield. Once. Twice. She is still smiling at me, her face turned at an awkward angle from the neck, her lips cut and bloody. Suddenly, the car flips over the railing and slams into a truck on the opposite side of road. A deathly silence descends. Time freezes. Pieces ofglass and tissue and teeth stay suspended mid-air, unmoving. Through the pain, I’m looking at her once-beautiful face, the face Ifell in love with, now a chaos ofblood, distended tissue, and shards ofbone and broken teeth. I reach outfor her face. It takes forever. And then a disquieting crunch fills the air. Metal against metal, bone against bone, bone againstflesh, flesh against metal. I’m thrown backward and forward. My legs twist and tangle. Ligaments snap, bones break. A jaggedpiece ofthe metal enters my thigh and comes outfrom the other side where I can ’t see it. Glass shatters and fragments lodge deep in myface. My skin singes from the heat. The burning smell ofrubber engulfs us. Orange-red flames lick everything up. I try opening my eyes, nowflooded with blood from myforehead. She s’ being thrown like a rag doll inside the roll cage ofthe car. Her eyes are open and she s’ looking at me. I look for signs of her but can only see my own gory reflection staring back. There s’ no trace of life in those eyes. But she has a smile on her face. A cold, frozen, dead smile. A stray piece ofmetalpierces through my shoulder blade like a hot axe through butter andpins me to the seat. The car flips again","cbCaiogFhlI86b5U","https://ap.wps.com/l/cbCaiogFhlI86b5U","pdf",994786,238,"English","# Contents\n## Epilogue\n## Follow Penguin Copyright","[{\"question\":\"What triggers Daman’s nightmares in The Girl of My Dreams?\",\"answer\":\"Daman’s nightmares center on the instant road accident and the dead smile he saw on Shreyasi afterward. Even after eighteen months, he cannot stop replaying the events.\"},{\"question\":\"How does Daman cope with the aftermath of the accident?\",\"answer\":\"He takes pills, washes and resets his routine after waking, and tries to avoid looking up details. Even so, the nightmares continue.\"},{\"question\":\"What do Daman’s family members notice about his dreams?\",\"answer\":\"His mother notices his discomfort and asks whether he saw the dream again. His sister also presses him about the meaning of the recurring dreams and how Shreyasi appears in them.\"}]","The Girl of My Dreams | PDF",1789949363,367]