Prologue
โToday marks the fourth year anniversary of our appointments, and you still havenโt opened up about anything.โ I told the guy who was sitting opposite to me, who was none other than, the famous, Mr.Aakash Sharma.
Aakash Sharma. It wasnโt just a name. It was a tag, a tag of success. Placed 90th on the list of the richest people on the planet, this 28 year old sensation was also one of the youngest on the list. He was easily my most valuable and famous client, but also the most problematic one, as he never really opened his mouth. See, thatโs exactly what a shrinkโs nightmares were made of.
โWell, cheers then, Mr.Sagar.โ said the Indian prodigy, as he shook my hand with utmost sincerity. Even his sarcasm was so flawless. Gosh, I hated this guy.
As he played with my paperweight, I observed my patient, who I so fondly despised with all of my heart. He was a kid, whoโs age was equivalent to that of my receptionistโs work experience. Yet, he earned more than what she would earn in all of her lifetime, in just a day.
Standing at 6โฒ3โ, the Managing Director of GigaTech Global looked nothing like an entrepreneur. An athletic frame with nerdy glasses gave this โRising Entrepreneur of The Year Awardโ recipient, the best of both worlds. His cool and calm demeanor was something that made people stop dead in their tracks and notice him. His dark brown eyes seemed to make him look far more mature than his age. I could almost bet that he kept that gruff beard just to look old enough to look like a Managing Director.
โTell me though, Sir. Why do you come here, when all you do is play on your phone, or just look at me, with a lost expression.โ I asked, trying my best to resist the urge to slap that perfect jawline of his.
โCall me Aakash, mate, Iโm too young to be called Sir!โ He smirked as he scratched his chin. โUh, I donโt know, really. I just like your room, I guess.โ He winked, not even slightly deterred by the anger in my words..
โWhat did I do, to deserve such a nutcase like this?โ I thought to myself.
โAnyway, how are you doing today? Your daughter must be done with high school now, if Iโm right. What is she going to do? College?โ he asked, firmly planting his hands on my table.
โIโm doing just fine, thank you. But could do a lot better if you decide to talk about yourself, you know. And yes, she wants to get into medical school. She wants to be a pediatrician , for some reason.โ
โA pediatrician? Whoa, a doc, eh? Damn, thatโs seriously cool. Tell her that I wished her nothing but the best for all her future endeavors. Hmm, you want me to talk, eh? Iโm not in the mood today, maybe next week?โ
โYou say the same thing every time you walk into my office, and I end up agreeing for some reason. I shouldโve given up on you long ago, but I guess itโs my thirst and longing to break your resolve down thatโs keeping me going, I guess. Fine, next Sunday it is.โ I took a deep breath, tapping my legs to calm myself down. .
โAlright then, cool. So Iโll be here next Sunday, then. Take care, Vish.โ he grinned cheekily, before standing up. He adjusted his black blazer, and walked out the room for the umpteenth time.
No matter how pissed I was at that guy, I just could not stop admiring him, for some reason. I nodded my head like school kid who was being taught basic arithmetic, as I saw him strut out of the office with that confident swagger. It pleased me that a fellow Indian was doing better than 99% of the local American population.
It was a typical December afternoon. The Sun was nowhere to be seen, as I reread the text that I had received a couple of hours ago, for the thousandth time.
โHope youโre available now, Vish. Better get your ears cleaned, cause youโre in for something long and boring.
-Aakashโ It read.
Was he finally going to open up, after 4, long, tiresome years? I couldnโt believe my luck, and keep my excitement in check, but knowing that guy, you just couldnโt be sure about what on Earth was he even referring to. After a soft knock on my door, he walked right in, and took his Ray Bans off. For the first time in four years, he had come in something else, other than a suit. He was smartly dressed in a black polo t-shirt, and a pair of blue faded denims, as he took a seat. I continued looking at him, as he laughed at me, picking up my paperweight again.
โWhy are you looking at me like that?โ he laughed.
โUh, no. Nothing. Well, your text did catch me off guard, to be honest.โ I replied, regaining my composure. Victory was tantalizingly close, and I wasnโt going to let it slip away with my anxiety and excitement.
โHaha, well, I was being serious. You are in for something long, indeed.โ
I watched him shift uncomfortably in his chair, kissing a ring that he wore as a chain for some godforsaken reason. It was finally happening, he was finally opening up. Four years of patience was finally going to pay off, I was finally going to win this battle. But wait, something was off. That confident swagger was long gone. Instead of the confidence that I was so used to seeing on his face, I saw something different, that day. I saw...emotions. It wasnโt just one or two, there were thousands of emotions running amok on his flawless face. I sat upright in my seat and passed him a glass of water. He thanked me and took a sip, before putting it down on the table.
โSo, are you ready now, Mr.Sharma?โ I asked him.
โY-Yeah.โ he mumbled, playing with the ring.
I could finally see it in his eyes. It wasnโt a mixture of emotions, it was just one. Pain. Endless, merciless, pain, clouded his eyes, as he bent down and took a deep breath, before smiling wryly. Gosh, the wait was certainly killing me. I just couldnโt take it anymore, I simply had to know what was wrong, and why was he even here.
โIt all began, when I was 17...
