EX

by Novoneel Chakraborty

  Neel’s eyes broaden with shock and horror. Nivrita or Titiksha—Neel isn’t sure anymore—she switches off the torch and in the darkness goes back to where she was sitting a minute ago. Neel can hear his heart beating the fastest he has ever felt. Titiksha aims the torch straight at Neel and switches on the light. It falls on Neel’s face and he has problem keeping his eyes open. He blocks the light with his hand.

  ‘I used to burn myself every time your memory haunted me Neel. I wanted to punish myself enough so that never ever in any other birth, in any other form, would I repeat the mistake which I committed in this birth—to fall for you.’

  Neel wets his dry lips absorbing every word deep into his conscience.

  ‘I accepted your parents’ plea. I had to. I’m a psychiatrist by profession and treating patients is my moral obligation. But for this particular patient—that’s you Neel Chatterjee—I wanted to get to your heart first. I wanted you to know what happened to us, to me, what I went through, because I remained glued to that one moment when I fell in love with you even after you ditched me. Making you the author of the story I wanted you to feel Titiksha’s pain; my pain. Forgetting is easy Neel. Living with memories is difficult, especially those which enrich your soul by injuring your heart. Do you know your real age is thirty-three Neel and not twenty seven? And I’m thirty-two.’

  I’m thirty-three? Is that why I always looked older compared to the students I studied with during school? But why this six years lag, Neel wonders feeling heavy. In the last few seconds, he seems to have gained weight. Even a simple hand movement demands a lot of energy from him.

  ‘That rainy night I jumped first, Neel, whereas we were supposed to jump together, and end our futile love story for a “better beginning”, or so you had told me. But unfortunately, I was the only one who dared to jump. Don’t ask me what I felt when I saw you standing by the terrace and looking at me falling down. I kept praying it was a nightmare, and that my Neel would soon follow, and together we shall die, but my prayer wasn’t answered. It was indeed a nightmare but a real one. You backed off Neel. Right when it mattered, you bloody backed off.

  When your mother was in my clinic, I asked her what your past story was. She said you saw one of your classmates commit suicide. It affected your mind so deeply that you underwent manic depression, sleep and eating disorders, developed psychotic and bipolar symptoms, and also attempted suicide thrice. What they didn’t know, but I knew well enough, was that you were a fucking coward. And whatever you went through, you deserved every spool of it. Cowards don’t fall in love, Neel.

  Your parents understood you needed serious treatment when one day they found out you’d killed your Doberman in rage and depression. Your mental illness made you forgo school for four years. You were kept locked at home most of the time, with your parents chasing every psychiatrist down for your treatment. It was only when you somewhat recovered that they thought of helping you finish your school education. The key was to keep an image in front of you that everything was normal in your life, else they feared they would lose their only child forever because of his hyper suicidal tendencies. Whenever you asked them why you were in a room, they coaxed you by saying you had some dust ailment.

  Tell you what Neel, nothing is absolute in this world. Not God, not love. Everything has two sides. It’s our myopic cognizance that makes us generalize the other side of things on the basis of our experience of one side. You eventually passed your twelfth board exams at the age of twenty-three, that too with grace marks. No college would have taken you because you were not fit for any.’

  ‘But I…’ Neel sounds benign. ‘I qualified AIEEE exams and got into Neelkanth…’ Neel’s voice trails off.

  ‘Yes, you got into a college that never existed. Your AIEEE mark sheet was a fake one. Your parents always were snobbish about the financial class they belonged to. And why wouldn’t they be. All the laws of the world are bent in front of money. It was your parents’ blind faith on money on the basis of which they thought they could still give their son a normal life, no matter what destiny did to him. What you were never told was once your father’s sari business prospered, he got in television production. Remember the television serial where you spotted Arindam—your supposed colleague? It’s produced by your father along with few a more. In the same building where they shot their other serials, they allotted a time where the set for your college was constituted. Small time actors were picked to essay the role of students, professors, and guards for a monthly payroll for four years. Unbelievable right? I too thought so but that’s the difference between truth and fiction. Fiction needs to be believable whereas truth doesn’t have such prerequisites. Whenever any city authority or education board staff came, they were told a television serial was being shot inside. Nobody had any issue. Tell me did you ever notice more than fifty people in your college at a tmie?’

  Neel thinks hard. And nods. He didn’t. In fact he did wonder at times why he kept seeing the same people again and again; every year. What Titiksha just told him now could be one reason why he was dropped by his father’s car just when his college started, and was picked up immediately after it was over. Also, his friends vanished after college because they were never his friends. It was all fake. And hence it’s not there anymore, Neel wonders. This is why there wasn’t any ragging in his college, nobody talked to him, and he was always the one who topped; Neel surmises. As she said it’s unbelievable. But, maybe, it’s true.

  ‘Your parents thought your life was almost in their control till you met Titiksha in college one day. It made things difficult because firstly your parents were not at all ready for this. Your father thought right after your fake college education, he would make you sit in his shop and relax for the rest of his life. Secondly, Titiksha was only a figment of your imagination. It was alright when you were in college with her, but when you told them you wanted to work in a bank, and then live-in with her, it perplexed them because they couldn’t say no to you whereas a yes would have been tricky. Though they agreed, they had you under supervision in your rented flat. When your parents took your case to one of my colleagues, he confirmed that you had developed Dissociate Identity disorder, and there may be another personality hidden in you along with Titiksha.’

  ‘It can’t be. I was in love with Titiksha. I stayed with her. I introduced her to my parents even. We used to have sex too. How can…,’ Neel exclaims. He sounds weak, as if he is trying to convince himself against what is slowly sinking in him—the truth.

  ‘Every time you thought Titiksha and you were having sex, it was you who were masturbating with your mind playing tricks on your senses. Yes, you did introduce Titiksha to your parents but there was no Titiksha. The physical traits of Titiksha like her looks, her smile, etc was only a concoction of what your subconscious had observed in others.’

  Neel now remembers how his father was composed even when he told him Titiksha was missing. How they never let him see the photographs he clicked when he brought Titiksha to meet them. It was because they were only acting as if there was some Titiksha but actually there wasn’t any. They played on so that it didn’t excite him unnecessarily, worsening his condition. And the camera wouldn’t have lied. So Nivrita— or the real Titiksha—must have acted when she came to his rented flat while he was in the bathroom assuming she was meeting his girlfriend when in reality there was no one.

  ‘It was when your mother told me that you used to interact with an imaginary Titiksha that I intentionally inquired why the name Titiksha and no one else. Your mother told me that Titiksha was the same classmate who had committed suicide in front of you. They said she was the root cause of all the problems in their and their son’s life. Your parents still believe the real Titiksha died that night. But sorry, I didn’t die Neel.’

  Neel is only staring at the terrace floor. It’s a dead stare.

  ‘After the fall that night, I suffered multiple head injuries, a twisted ankle, and a fractured shoulder bone. The security guar
d of Sharada Heights raised an alarm seeing my body, but I was taken to the hospital much later. I had almost bled to death by then. Your friend who lived in Sharada Heights contacted your parents who came and took you home without even caring to look at me. Why are people so cruel, Neel? Why don’t we understand other’s pain? Why don’t we get it, a simple act of yours sometimes is potent enough to destroy a life. A whole fucking life! And we still call ourselves God’s best creation. Humour me.’

  ‘There wasn’t anybody to take me to a hospital that night. People of the apartment were scared because it seemed like a police case. Finally the police was summoned, and I was taken to a nearby hospital where I was in coma for 72 hours. Those 72 hours took Yo-didun’s life. She died from a heart attack the next day after being in the hospital for more than 50 hours, waiting for me to regain consciousness. I lost two of my most prized possessions when I wasn’t in my senses—you and Yo-didun. I never saw her again after I moved out of the house in the dead of the night to meet you.’ I should have at least been given a chance to bid her goodbye.’

  ‘I survived and came out of the coma. It took me two years to recover fully. By then even my parents had decided to disown me. I was anyway an accident for them. My mother gave me up to an NGO who took care of my medical expenses. I don’t know what happened to Ashok mama and Bijoya mami much except that they left Yo-didun’s place and shifted elsewhere. Right now, as I speak, a court case is going on between my mother and mama as to who should take Yo-didun’s house.’

  In the two years that I was recuperating, I remembered myself as yours and that’s where the problem was. I was going through life but I wasn’t living it. And the more difficult it was to live, the more I wanted to live. I wanted to live because I wanted to tell myself that Neel Chatterjee tried but couldn’t kill me totally. That way I wanted to win. Also, I wanted to live for my love for you was real and true and genuine and I wanted to keep it alive within me. So it didn’t matter how much your memory kept diluting it. I wasn’t ready to pay for loving someone truly, even if I fell for a total coward who gave in to his fear at the last moment, than stand by his love for me. And the first thing I did after I recovered fully was change my name from Titiksha to Nivrita. I thought I could become a new person with such a change for the name Titiksha had a lot of story which I wanted to sever myself from.

  I completed my schooling from a low-grade government school which the NGO helped me get into, passed the Pre Medical exam, and did few odd jobs to help myself pay for my medical studies in a government medical college. The only thing going for me was I was good in studies. My zeal to live made me push myself harder to become even better. I completed my MBBS at the age of twenty-six and then did my PG in Psychiatry. I was doing well in my career when your parents came to me. I took six months to follow you, research about your likes and dislikes, and present mental status. The bank you were working for was a fake one too. Ever wondered how come there were only eight employees working in that dingy two-room bank you worked in? The first thing I did was ask your father to make the job so boring that you resign yourself. And you did.’

  Neel would wonder why he never got promoted even when he did his work on time. Why there was the same work again and again. And why everyone was relaxed most of the time. Just like it happened in his college days, he was dropped in his bank and picked up right when it got over without letting him spend time elsewhere. Now he knows. The work wasn’t real. The bank wasn’t real. His life wasn’t real. How could he be so stupid? After a momentary silence, he answered by reminding himself that he isn’t normal. His grasping power is below standard, his mind is inferior. He is a fucked-up case.

  ‘Though your father wanted you to sit in his shop to avoid complications, he did agree when you said you wanted to work. At least you were by his side. The salary was given to you, and every other actor in the so called private bank by your father. If you remember Arindam didn’t recognize you on the street the day we came from Jaipur, it was because he had been adequately paid not to recognize you outside the office. In fact, nobody was allowed to remain in touch with you outside office. The same was for your college buddies. They disappeared because they had been paid to disappear.’

  ‘What about Cintus Finance and the man who picked up the phone there when I called?’

  ‘Cintus Finance did exist when you went with your imaginary girlfriend but it was soon gone. That was the only time, your father told me, that you have ventured outside alone. Also, it wasn’t Cintus Finance’s number that you had with you. It was the number to your father’s production office. The man had been asked to tell the same thing hence he must have sounded like a robot to you.’

  Silence persists for some time.

  ‘Your parents have doled out a fortune Neel,’ Titiksha said, ‘to give you a normal life… You are lucky that way Neel else you would have rotten in some locked up room forever. Do ask yourself Neel if you have done anything to deserve the goodness your parents have showered upon you?’

  Neel is sitting silently on the stairs to make sense of all that he has been told so far. He wishes he had never met Nivrita—or Titiksha as he now knows her—ever. Ignorance is good. But now he knows Titiksha and his story. He has lived it in his mind. Did he really love Titiksha the way she loved him? Writing the story he felt the character Neel did love the character of Titiksha. It means he too must have loved her truly, now that he knows it was his story too. Then why didn’t he jump that night if it was his plan to begin with? Why couldn’t he keep his promise? Was he that shallow a person from within that he couldn’t carry out something he promised his love? Is his fear more powerful than his love for Titiksha?

  ‘Destiny is a musical instrument Neel,’ he hears Titiksha say, ‘And it has its limitations. It doesn’t matter how big a musician you are, you can’t produce percussions out of a string instrument. I did wake up after the 72 hours of coma but the day your father showed me your photograph in my clinic, I realized something in me had been in a coma from long, very long time. I know you noticed the tears in my eyes when we were in the Jaipur hotel room together. It was because I never had imagined I would lose my virginity to you. Yes, that night I lost my virginity to the one I had always loved. That possibility was beyond a dream for me. But it happened. I’m lucky. But as I told you, nothing is absolute. This good luck of mine has a pretty bad side too which you now know. Probably, it was all destined. When I learnt you had a sudden urge to become an author, I got my excuse of butting into your life. Most depression patients show signs of creative escape. I feigned being the commissioning editor of a leading publishing house. It was a trap. I booked the hotel room for you in Jaipur, I booked Lappan for you. They knew me by my name—Titiksha—and you thought it was your imaginary girlfriend. I was happy you remembered my name, but then what’s in a name really? You didn’t remember me; the person bearing the name. I could have told you all this on day one itself, but I wanted you to relive our story which you had forgotten. I wanted you to feel guilty, I wanted you to feel the pain that I have been hiding within me for all these years. I wanted you to hate yourself for forgetting me, like I hated myself, at times for loving you so incorrigibly. You have kept me pregnant with an inscrutable pain since a long time now. Neel—a pregnancy which I thought I’ll never come out of. A pain I knew I would take to my grave.’

  Neel was quiet as Titiksha clarified further.

  ‘The earlier psychiatrists were right. There is indeed another dormant personality in you other than the imaginary Titiksha’s. I probed it by enticing you to doubt the imaginary Titiksha and later by telling you I saw someone with your girlfriend in a mall. Though an out-of-the-body experience is pretty common in patients suffering from Dissociate Identity Disorder, if instigated, but I didn’t want to take a chance. So I staged the power-cut in the mall as well as kept a real boy and girl with a green-grass top. I also kept the dismantled phone in the washroom which you thought belonged to your imaginary Titiksha. After you were convinced abou
t the presence of another man in her life, I brought Parimal into the picture. I wanted you to suspect me after I threw the cigarette packet inside your flat with the note so that at least you knew something was indeed wrong, and later I stuffed your washing machine, taking the key from your parents, with chopped beyond recognition flesh pieces which were nothing but slaughtered animals I bought from a butcher shop. But you started doubting Parimal instead, as the supposed murderer of the imaginary Titiksha. Hence I had to keep him for a little more time than I thought he would be needed. The police uniform was deliberately kept in my flat because I wanted to re-direct you to me via Parimal. When you called your father about Titiksha’s disappearance, he had called me for help. I’d sent the actor Parimal as a policeman to him while we were investigating the presence of a non-existent Cintus Finance in Sector V. The funniest thing, however, is that your parents still don’t know who I really am. They think whatever I’m doing is part of some medical process to help you get better. And they co-operated.’

  Silence persists. There’s nothing more Neel needs to know. He lowers his head. What else can a coward do? Titiksha ambles towards him. She caresses his hair and suddenly grabs them tightly, pulling his head up. His shamed eyes meet her arrogant ones.

  ‘And now I want you to suffer, Neel Chatterjee, because now you know the second half of Neel and Titiksha’s twisted love story. I’ll sleep well tonight and for the rest of the nights you shall remain awake, hoping and praying for death to come to you because you know you are a fucking coward, and are responsible for killing what I basically was. Your parents may still think it was suicide, but I and you now know it was homicide. My jumping off the terrace was a culpable-fucking-homicide—if you know what I mean!’

  Titiksha let go of his hair and walked out of the terrace. Neel sits in agony. He can now understand what Titiksha must have undergone because of his momentary cowardice. An impulsive thinking, a simple lack of judgement, and two lives have been destroyed beyond repair. If he had not gone to Titiksha that rainy night, they would have lived, even if it was with a little bit of pain. But that pain would have been different from the one Titiksha had just told him about. It would have been a different pain from the one that he will live with from now on. Should he live on? Titiksha had asked him to question himself if he deserved the life he got in return of what he compelled Titiksha to undergo.