by Ruchi Kokcha
‘The ones where smoking only cigarettes and drinking only soda was considered a sin,’ he chuckled as he took a sip of beer.
‘Yeah, those “out-of-the-world” parties of yours.’
‘Remember when we coaxed you to smoke and I gave you a step-by-step demonstration on how to successfully inhale on your first attempt?’ Avik asked her.
‘Of course I remember. I choked on the very first puff and couldn’t stop coughing. I was so humiliated! You rushed and brought water for me.’
‘Immediately after which you insisted on a second try. No matter how much I tried to stop you, you were adamant on showing us that you could do it too. And you did. How time flies!’ Avik put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently.
Khyati felt butterflies in her stomach at his touch. Disconcerted, she tried to distract herself.
‘Do you have a smoke?’ she asked him.
He was startled.
‘You smoke?’
‘Well, I have been practising for the last six years,’ she replied.
They had a hearty laugh, a much-needed one after what had happened in the afternoon.
Avik lit a cigarette and handed it to her.
She took it, paused the movie and then shut down the laptop.
‘I thought someone had stayed over to watch a movie,’ Avik said and gulped down the rest of the beer in the bottle.
‘I am sure you must have watched it over a thousand times.’ She took the bottle from him, went to the refrigerator and pulled out another. She went to the table and filled both the mugs lying on it, handing one to him.
Then she grabbed him by his wrist and pulled him out of the room. He soon found himself on the terrace of the hotel.
The hotel building was much higher than the ones adjacent to it, giving them an amazing view of the lights of Paharganj, the hub for cheap hotels in Delhi. They gazed down at the sight for a while, forgetting everything else. The colourful neon lights looked like something out of fantasyland.
‘Look at those lights. Let’s divide them into two kinds, blinking and non-blinking. Which kind do you find yourself more connected to?’ Avik asked.
Khyati gazed at the lights for a while, as if reading silent signals that they were sending her.
‘The non-blinking ones tell me to stand firm through the worst of times,’ she replied.
Avik smiled at her reply and turned his gaze to the street to look at the lights once more.
‘I feel a close connection to the blinking ones. Are they not just like our lives? One moment they are bright and shiny, ready to face any challenge that the darkness has in store for them; the next moment they become one with the darkness, as if submitting themselves to its might. We humans remain content when times are good, but in times of turmoil we become gloomy and desperate,’ Avik ended with a sigh.
‘I agree, but that is why I prefer the non-blinking lights, as they inspire us to stay cheerful and bright amidst the darkest of times,’ Khyati replied.
‘Don’t you think you’re being too idealistic? I mean, when times are against you, it’s normal for you to be gloomy. One can only hope to be happy in such times, but in reality the shadow of stress always hovers over one’s mind,’ Avik said, looking straight into her eyes.
‘Well, it is Delhi that is behind my idealistic positivism.’ Khyati laughed.
She held up her beer mug in a toast.
‘To Delhi,’ she said.
He laughed, not knowing whether she was high on the beer or Delhi.
‘Bottoms up then,’ he said as he raised his mug, clanked it against hers and drank till the last drop.
They looked at each other and cracked up. Neither knew why they were laughing, but soon they were sitting on the terrace floor in splits. All of a sudden everything went quiet as they finally stopped to catch their breath. Avik stretched out next to Khyati.
He had missed lying on a terrace and admiring the stars. The race to survive and succeed in a competitive world had snatched away these little pleasures of life. He felt content, not just in watching the stars but watching the stars with her.
‘I have wanted to do this for a very long time,’ he said, turning to look at her.
‘Do what? Get drunk?’ she asked.
‘No. Lie in the silence of the dark and gaze at the skies. It’s heavenly,’ Avik exclaimed as he looked at the full moon above him. All his life he had felt a deep connection with the moon, especially when it was full.
‘Don’t tell me you and Trisha never did this together?’ Khyati was surprised.
‘We did not have time for such “stupid stuff”,’ he replied.
‘Who says it’s stupid? I feel it is one of the best ways to release all the negativity and stress that one has collected during the day so that one can sleep well at night. There is no point in sleeping for seven to eight hours if all you have inside is junk,’ she said, smiling up at the stars.
They both went silent for a while.
He did not know when he passed out. The chirping of birds and the noise of the horns from the street woke him up the next morning. He turned around to look for Khyati. She wasn’t there. He went back to his room and found her engrossed in the newspaper. He thought it better not to disturb her and left to get them tea.
On his way, Avik thought about how he could extract information from Dr Kaul’s office. He called the doctor’s assistant and offered him ten thousand rupees in return for any information he could provide about Ananki. The assistant told Avik to transfer the money to his account first.
Avik had to take the risk. He stopped by the Internet café adjacent to his hotel and transferred the sum to the assistant’s account. The assistant in return scanned and emailed him the most recent letter in Ananki’s file. It was one of the most expensive pieces of information Avik had ever collected.
When he got back to the hotel room, Khyati was still reading the newspaper. He handed her a cup of tea and kept the printout of the letter on the coffee table.
‘What is the breaking news today?’ he inquired, heading to the bathroom.
‘Your favourite thirty-seven-year-old actress is pregnant,’ she read aloud.
He guffawed as he came out. ‘That’s not news. That’s a miracle.’
Both of them burst out laughing and Khyati accidentally spilt some tea on the printout Avik had kept on the table. Avik rushed to clean it up. Khyati sensed that it was something important and picked it up. It was a note, written on Dr Vijay Kaul’s letterhead, referring Ananki to a Dr Neerja Sharma. It included the address of Dr Sharma’s NGO, which looked after patients with mental ailments who were unable to get treatment from competent doctors and reputed hospitals.
‘How did you get this?’Khyati asked, surprised.
‘Don’t forget I’m a journalist. We are good at getting things that we want,’ he replied, grinning.
Avik took the printout from her and looked at the address. The NGO was in Chanakyapuri. He wanted to meet Dr Neerja and through her, hopefully Ananki, but before that he had to meet someone else.
He asked Khyati to get ready quickly and meet him at the hotel entrance. Then he ran downstairs to look for an autorickshaw.
As they sat in the rickshaw, Avik told the driver to take them to Greater Kailash.
‘Why are we heading to Dr Kaul’s and not to Dr Sharma’s NGO?’ Khyati looked confused.
‘Dr Kaul has referred Ananki to another doctor, which means that she is no longer his patient. No rules apply now. He will have to tell us everything he knows about the case,’ Avik said.
‘What if he still refuses?’ Khyati asked.
‘He won’t. You just watch.’
Avik was brimming with confidence.
When they met Dr Kaul, Avik confronted him with what he had found out.
‘When Ananki Rajput was reported missing, you knew where she was. How could you keep such an important piece of information to yourself? You should have told the police her whereabouts. You could be charged un
der the Indian Penal Code for what you did,’ Avik challenged the doctor.
‘I didn’t know she was missing,’ Dr Kaul replied casually.
‘The news of the millionaire’s daughter going missing spread through the city like a forest fire, it was telecast by every single news channel, the print media posted full-page advertisements with her photograph, the police requested citizens to help them in their search, so don’t try and make me believe, Dr Kaul, that you didn’t know she was missing,’ Avik said, placing both his hands on the table and leaning towards Dr Kaul, staring him directly in the eye.
‘But I didn’t know her whereabouts. Mr Rajput just stopped her visits, how would I know where she was?’ Dr Kaul insisted, trying to avoid Avik’s stare.
‘Of course you did. It was you who advised Mr Rajput to shift her to Dr Neerja’s NGO. I have proof with me and can present it to the police if you don’t help me.’
Dr Kaul felt exposed. Nonetheless, he refused when Avik asked him for a copy of Ananki’s case file.
‘I cannot give you a patient’s file. It is against the rules,’ Dr Kaul muttered nervously, wiping the sweat dripping from his large, shining forehead.
‘A copy of the file, please, or I will have to call the police.’ Avik reached for the telephone on the table.
Dr Kaul had no option but to agree. He called in his assistant and told him to make a copy of Ananki Rajput’s case file.
‘Copy every single page,’ Avik added.
It took the assistant almost half an hour to return with the copy of the file. Avik flipped through the pages and then turned to Dr Kaul.
‘I have one last question for you. Although I know the answer, I want you to confirm it. Who wanted Ananki to disappear?’
‘Mr Rajput. He paid me a huge amount for keeping the whereabouts to myself,’ Dr Kaul replied.
‘Thank you,’ Avik said as he closed the file and left, followed by Khyati.
The moment they were out of the clinic, Khyati started yelling at him.
‘Are you completely out of your mind? He could file an FIR against us for this. I can’t believe what you just did, Avik. We could land in serious trouble.’
Her eyes were red, brimming with anger.
‘Nothing will happen to us, for Dr Kaul is guilty himself. He needs to protect himself rather than complain against us,’ Avik reassured her.
‘But you cannot just hurl such serious accusations at someone, Avik. You need to be more careful,’ Khyati advised him.
‘I knew what I was doing, Khyati. I have the proof with me. The whole world thought Ananki was under Dr Kaul’s care when she went missing. Later, her father said that she had been admitted to an asylum because she was mentally ill, but he also said that she was still being treated by Dr Kaul,’ Avik replied.
Khyati knew there was no point in arguing with him since the deed had already been done.
‘The good thing that came out of it is the file,’ Avik said as he handed it to her.
Khyati opened it to read the case history. She saw that Ananki had been diagnosed with depression.
‘Dr Kaul initially treated her with fluoxetine hydrochloride, an antidepressant,’ she said as she quickly turned to the prescription on the last page. ‘He also prescribed chlorpromazine. I don’t know much about this medicine except for the fact that it causes a strong dulling of the mind. I know who would know more. Let’s go meet Dr Bhalla,’ she suggested, closing the file.
‘Is he like Dr Kaul? If he is, it would be better if you dealt with him,’ Avik asked her on the way.
‘Don’t worry. Dr Bhalla is a warm-hearted individual who believes in addressing a patient’s actual problems rather than attempting to control their behaviour through psychotropic drugs. According to him, such medications can often make a patient’s condition worse. His method is mild but very effective. Talk therapy can work miracles that most drugs cannot. But it requires a lot of patience and time, which is in short supply for most psychiatrists nowadays,’ Khyati explained.
Dr Tarun Bhalla was in his study. He was sitting in an armchair, reading, when the servant showed Khyati and Avik into the room. On seeing them, he got up to greet his visitors. He was a handsome man but had a clumsy gait, Avik noticed as the doctor walked towards them.
After introducing Avik, Khyati came straight to the point. ‘How serious is the condition of a patient who has been prescribed chlorpromazine?’she asked.
Dr Tarun was taken aback for a second. He cleared his throat to speak. ‘Chlorpromazine is a neuroleptic drug, which means that it can cause a serious dulling of the mind. It can result in a kind of chemical lobotomy, which is to say that it can seriously compromise the functioning of the frontal lobes.’
‘What is the function of the frontal lobes?’ Avik asked, looking a little perplexed.
‘The frontal lobes are unique to human beings and are the seat of the higher functions such as love, empathy, insight, creativity, rationality, judgement and so on. Without the frontal lobes it is impossible to be “human” in the fullest sense of the word,’ Dr Tarun explained.
Before he could continue, he was interrupted by a female voice.
‘To cut a long story short, chlorpromazine can seriously impair a person’s sense of self and their environment,’ a lady said as she walked into the study carrying a tea tray.
She smiled at them as she kept the tea tray on the table.
‘Meet my wife, Dr Neerja. Or I should have said meet Dr Neerja, my wife, since she is a doctor first, then my wife. I think she is fonder of her patients than she is of me,’ Dr Tarun said, and he and his wife both laughed.
Avik glanced at Khyati. Is she thinking of the same possibility that I am? he wondered.
To confirm his suspicion, he handed Dr Neerja Ananki’s case file. For a while she just gazed at it, lost in thought. The name seemed familiar to her, since she did not open the file at once.
‘I am surprised that someone still cares to find out about Ananki. In the last two years, not a single person has inquired about her, including her own father,’ Dr Neerja finally said, handing Avik a cup of tea.
So she is none other than the Dr Neerja Sharma to whom Dr Kaul had referred Ananki. It is she who treated Ananki after one of the best psychiatrists in India abandoned her. Was it her large-heartedness or did she take the case up as a challenge? Avik pondered as he sipped his tea.
After they had finished their tea, too many questions whirled in Avik’s mind. But before asking them, he wanted to put together the scattered pieces of the jigsaw puzzle that was this case, in order to get a better understanding of the information they had collected.
As they got up to leave, Dr Neerja asked if she could keep the case file to study Ananki’s medication history. Avik agreed.
‘Will you help me meet her?’ was the only question he could manage to ask Dr Neerja.
She looked at him for a moment as if to guess his thoughts, then replied with a faint smile, ‘I will, provided she wants to meet you. See you later.’
Avik nodded and they left. He did not want to go back to his hotel room. Moreover, looking for autorickshaws in the heat was getting on his nerves. He called up his mother and asked her to lend him her little car. She readily agreed. He told Khyati they were going to his mother’s house.
When he introduced Khyati to his mother, she seemed to take an immediate liking to the younger girl. She had to, for Khyati’s cotton kurti matched her own saree.
As he watched the two of them chattering away, Avik realized that he had rarely seen Khyati wear revealing clothes, though he was sure a sexy body was concealed beneath the loose kurti.
She could make any sensible guy fall for her, he thought.
Avik soon excused himself and went to his room, leaving the duo to chat.
Thoughts about Khyati’s body had made him miss Trisha. He missed the weight of her body on his own, but most of all he missed her smell. He had always been mesmerized by her tangy perfume. Even the thought of it stil
l made him feel warm inside. But he knew that she was nothing more than an absent presence in his life, just as he was for her. She had not called him since they had last met, and neither had he made any effort to get in touch with her. He knew that Trisha was a closed chapter in his life. Right now all he wanted was Ananki Rajput’s story.
If only he could discover the reason behind her current state of mind.
Madness is not something alien to human nature or reason but a part of it. There is a method to madness that cannot be seen by the ordinary eye. Madness is not cut off from reality. On the contrary, a mad person is submerged in reality, over-impassioned and highly susceptible to the outer world. A mad person is like a pearl without its shell, an animal without a skin and a stream without an ocean. Madness is not something that opposes rationality but a kind of superior reason, an insanity close to reason, Avik scribbled in his diary.
As he was jotting down his thoughts, he was called for dinner.
Avik smiled at the sight of the meal that had been laid out. For a moment he thought of settling down with Khyati and relishing such great meals every day for the rest of his life. But then he pulled the bridles of his mind’s horses and laughed to himself at the thought.
As Khyati and his mother chatted away, a worrying thought suddenly occurred to him. He asked his mother for some homemade pickle, which she immediately went to fetch.
‘Don’t mention anything about Ananki’s case to her,’ Avik whispered.
‘Avik, ever since we got here, I have not thought even once about the case. Don’t worry about it,’ Khyati whispered back.
Shakuntala returned with the pickle.
After dinner, Shakuntala insisted that the two of them stay the night as it was quite late. Khyati readily agreed and Avik soon returned to his room, leaving the two ladies to share their seemingly endless stories.
Avik struggled awake to check why his mobile was vibrating so early in the morning.
Khyati is calling me, but why, when she is in this house? he wondered.He answered the phone and said, ‘The door is not locked—’
