CHAPTER 1: In the Psychiatric Clinic.
19th October:
Dr. Bhatt looked at the young lady seated across him, her eyes looking far away, at a distance………into infinity……….and eternity………..where she wanted to belong.
Dr. Bhatt had been counseling her for the past half an hour and had got no response from her. Just a blank stare and an involuntary blinking of the eyes.
Dr. Sanjeev Bhatt, the handsome, smart lady-killer, who could have given any hero a complex, was observing both the ladies seated across him. Dr. Bhatt was a keen observer, a brilliant analyzer, and a very logical and sane man with the best possible analytical reasoning. A man of great learning, graduating from reputed colleges and prestigious universities, Dr. Bhatt had rubbed shoulders with the best in his field of psychiatry. He was a psychoanalyst par excellence and was the recipient of many medals of Honor.
It was either his good or bad fortune, depending on which way you looked at it, that he was blessed with equal amounts of beauty and brains.
So those who did not know his academic qualifications were impressed solely by his physical appearance. Which were so awesome that it was a sin to miss them! He was a six feet two inches tall, imposing man, with smooth skin, a genial smile, a Greek God physique, and a pleasant personality that would command instant attention and he was well aware of it. He had a terrific screen presence and whenever he would be mingling at a party or attending a conference, he would easily tower over the other equally qualified personalities.
Little wonder that the other lady in a black overcoat, was looking with undivided attention at Dr. Bhatt.
Dr. Bhatt had of course noticed it but did not get much flattered since it was a matter of daily occurrence to him. What bothered him however was that the young lady in question, the patient, had not even once cast a single glance at Dr. Bhatt, forget an admiring look, and was just staring away at a distance, at the window opposite her, looking through him. Through Dr. Bhatt.
As if he was made up of glass!
Transparent and clear!
Any other man in his place would have been suitably offended; but if Dr. Bhatt was, he certainly did not show. For his manners were as sweet as honey and his voice soothing as always, as he spoke with his patient, a Ms. Richa Mehta.
Richa was a sober-looking girl, with a long face, small round black eyes, and curly hair that must have been too rowdy to handle, no wonder they were spilling over carelessly all over her face. She had the distinct look of one who viewed life appallingly. She had the air of someone who had read too many grim novels to date, absorbing everything and moreover believing in every word that she read! She must be in her late twenties (a beautiful age to enjoy life!) but already looked pulled down by life’s many challenges (whether they were real or imaginary, it was for Dr. Bhatt to find out). She had that unmistakable look of a person who had given up on life or who knew the futility of trying in the first place. She had that permanent bored and dull look in her eyes and face and though she looked in perfect physical health, she carried that doomed expression and feeling all over and around her.
Dr. Bhatt understood in a split second that she must be friendless. And consequently even foe-less, of course!
So the lady who had brought her to him had to be a companion or a roommate, at the most. Nothing more.
“Those who are in perfect physical health have no right to be unhappy about life” Dr. Bhatt remembered his grandma, who suffered from severe arthritis for so long, saying loudly to everyone in general and no one in particular, whenever she used to rub that strong-smelling herbal oil on her knees and wallow in audible pain.
“Ahhh….” would be her painful groans.
And Sanjeev, then just a teenager, the closest to his grandma, would feel the pain.
‘That there is a psychological side also to one’s health never once occurred to grandma’ Dr. Bhatt, the renowned psychiatrist recollected ruefully now.
This thought used to get more and more reinforced every time Dr. Bhatt used to study a new patient, a new case. And though he thought that he had studied almost all types of human emotions and their ailments, he was now and then surprised to find something new crop up and stun him…………like this case in front of him.
‘Will man’s mind never ceases to surprise?’ he used to be left wondering.
Today’s case was quite challenging and different.
The patient was silent. Completely silent.
Almost like a rock. Or a statue. Enveloped in an air of a tragedy queen all around her. Dr. Bhatt could immediately sense that she must have made no attempt to hush off the air of gloominess around her. Maybe she even liked to be in it and wallow in self-pity! Dr. Bhatt had seen many such patients in his life. Those self-proclaimed martyrs, those men, and women who loved to display their sufferings and sacrifices for all to view, those people who loved to portray themselves as poor sensitive victims.
“It’s going to be a beautiful Christmas” The other lady, Sameera said, looking out of the window from where she could catch glimpse of brisk, uneven snowfall. No matter how many times she saw a pretty snowfall or a drizzle of rain, she continued to be equally mesmerized each time, even attributing those normal changes in nature and weather as romance-enhancers or romance-inducers!
Her voice had now even acquired that tone of a romantic whisper as she clasped her gloved hands dreamily and dramatically and looked out of the window……..and Dr. Bhatt knew that in her mind’s eye she had already hugged him amorously.
“Promises to be a White Christmas…….” put in Dr. Bhatt, agreeing most genially, steering Sameera’s mind to the weather and the weather only. And nothing more.
“And my last!” Richa, the tragedy queen entered the conversation for the first time, muttering the most pathetic dialogue as her opening sentence.
All eyes were on her now. Horrified. Stupefied.
‘Did she like the attention? Was she doing it for that sake?’ this thought invariably crept into Sameera’s mind, which was usually full of starry-eyed stuff only and naturally hardly had any space or time for anything trivial or tragic.
Dr. Bhatt’s breath had also quickened, but he being a pro, was the least affected by the drama, amongst the two of them.
‘The content’. It was only the content that interested the doctor in him. That was his main job.
“Why?” he asked her, plainly and simply.
“Because I wouldn’t be alive to see the next” Richa answered immediately and equally plainly and simply.
Sameera had opened her mouth to say something but no adequate words came out, so shocked was she. So she just continued looking at Richa, with her hand on her open mouth, terrified hence not a single word escaped her mouth.
“Why do you think so?” Dr. Bhatt, asked her again, this time eyeing her more minutely and clinically, as per the situation.
“I have planned to die before that” Richa answered sweetly and she even gave a dry smile to Dr. Bhatt.
And it was this smile that troubled Dr. Bhatt more than her statement.
“But you had planned to die yesterday too” Dr. Bhatt reminded her gently. “By suicide”.
“Yes………..I……….” Richa faltered, for perhaps the first time, and then looking up at Dr. Bhatt with a plea in her eyes, said “but not everyone is successful the first time………………besides……….there is always a …………second time…………and a third time and a ……” her voice had again gained that hope for the future but with a difference.
Her hope for the future was to succeed in……….mmmm…well…....suicide, unlike others wanted to succeed in life!
‘That’s the difference between a patient and a normal person’ thought Dr. Bhatt grimly ‘and that is where I come into the picture’ he thought once more grateful that he had taken up this profession to help the many people with a troubled mind.
Sameera still had her manicured hand over her mouth in an attempt to stop herself from screaming. ‘Then it was not a cry for help like most suicides are’ Sameera was thinking and the resolve in Richa’s voice, the steel in her eyes haunted her like never before.
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