Scapegoat

Chapter 2

The next morning, Amisha rushed downstairs hurriedly as she was late for her school meeting. Devansh Roy, her uncle, was waiting for her patiently and engaging himself in clinical magazines. Margaret served breakfast for them on the dining table.
Margaret had been their house maid since Amisha was sixteen after Margaret she lost her parents in an earthquake. The Roys took her in and since she had no one else, she continued to serve the family and look after Amisha as though she was her own child.Fortunately, Amisha had been spending the weekend at her maternal parents, so she was saved.
Margaret was 34, and she was pretty good at her work and very strict about her schedule. She spent her entire time on nurturing Amisha. She was a passionate lady and truly committed to her work. She always dressed up in a black, spotted apron with a white dress beneath it. She was a dark-skinned, plump woman, which she was proud of, and her oiled hair was always set in a neat bun. After Amisha lost her parents, she sacrificed her life for Amisha. The Roys had done many favours for Margaret, and she felt that she needed to pay them back in her own, devoted way.
“Margaret!” Amisha shouted, “I hope the breakfast is…” she paused when she saw three plates of food freshly laid.
Amisha went to her and kissed her saying, “Thank you, darling.”
Amisha hugged her uncle and welcomed him. Although he was not a guest, she treated him like one. They both sat at the table and ate as quickly as possible. Though Amisha was not interested in her school meetings, she had to attend one because of her uncle. Devansh Roy was a renowned psychiatrist, and he had been summoned by the school many a times as a chief guest. He had a reputation that he could not afford to lose.
Though Devansh Roy was 44, he didn’t have a partner in his life. He was engaged to his work, his patients and his clinic. He had a slight foreign accent, for he had studied medicine from the University of California. His present study in hypnotherapy was mesmerising for him as he was deeply engrossed in the subject.
His relationship with Amisha was like that of a father and daughter. Being her father’s younger brother, he treated her like one of his own. He visited her frequently, took her out for dinners and planned tours and vacations. He was quite fair and of average height with a toned body, brown hair, dark eyes and a strong jaw just like a boxer. He was a perfect gentleman.
After having their quick breakfast, Devansh said, “I’ll see you outside in three minutes. Bring your ID and your handbook.”
“Don’t worry, uncle; I’ve got them,” Amisha said gently.
As Devansh went outside to get his car, Amisha looked at herself in the mirror and tidied her hair a little bit. She informed Margaret to remind Prakashbhai, their driver, to pick her up from Devansh’s clinic in the evening as she had plans with her friend. Then Amisha ran outside after kissing Margaret goodbye and left the door open.
At school, when Mrs. Parina, Amisha’s class teacher, summoned them in, Amisha said she didn’t want to come and would like to wait outside in the car. Devansh didn’t force her. He entered the classroom discreetly.
While discussing Amisha’s progress report, Mrs. Parina remarked that there was something peculiar about Amisha that she intended to discuss openly with Devansh.
“I think she is facing a problem in the class. It’s very peculiar to note,” she said.
“What is it, ma’am?” asked Devansh worriedly.
“I don’t know. I can’t say. But there is something wrong going on with her lately. And as you specialise in understanding people, I thought of asking you this. Is she alright?”
“I couldn’t but say that she is. She is perfectly alright. Have her grades fallen?”
“Oh, no! Not at all,” she said with enthusiasm, taking out her mark sheet. “Distinction,” she remarked, glancing at the sheet.
“But that’s not the problem,” she added. “It’s something personal, I believe.”
“I’ll make sure she’s fine, ma’am. Thank you so much for your patience,” he said and left the room with the mark sheet.
As he reached outside, he stood there and wondered what she meant. But then he thought about letting it be for then.
Amisha detested people-oriented places as they undermined her confidence. She preferred to be alone. She found it difficult to adjust in the classroom.. Amisha was one of the least confrontational or outspoken pupils in her class, though one of the best in academics. She was different from the other students in school. She was reserved, sought peaceful places, preferred fewer less friends and was strangely obsessed with books. While her uncle was inside, she was waiting in the car, listening to country music and reading A Tale of Two Cities. Although she was alone all the time, she never felt lonely.
“Here.” Devansh handed her the mark sheet and said, “You did great this year, my dear. Congratulations!” he praised her and kissed her on her forehead.
“Thank you, uncle,” she hugged him.
They left the school. On the way, Devansh recalled Mrs. Parina’s words and thought of asking Amisha about it.
“So what’s going on with you lately?” Devansh asked, driving the car.
“Margaret fixed my sewing machine, so I’m happy about it,” she cheerfully remarked.
“That’s great! How do you feel nowadays? I’ve been less in touch with you these days, I know that, but you know my work…”
“No, it’s alright. I’m doing well. Trying to keep myself occupied with my painting.”
“Wonderful! So you’re sleeping well these days I suppose?”
She was silent for a moment. She wondered about her past days and thought about it wistfully. Devansh caught her silence and assumed trouble.
“Do you wish to continue with your therapy?” he asked kindly.
Wondering about it for a while, she replied, “I think I’ll be fine. It’s just a matter of time.”
In the meanwhile, they had reached Devansh’s clinic, which was also his house. After Devansh parked the car, Amisha stepped out and ran inside the house. She sprinted upstairs to her room and threw her mark sheet in the dustbin. Devansh would not notice. He never visited her room.
Devansh did not have a secretary, so Amisha filled the spot sometimes. She had a limited life, but a productive one. She considered the world as a place of war without human dignity and welfare.  Her stubbornness sometimes led to her being ignorant.
Devansh had a decent collection of books that he had turned into a mini-library in the living room. His living room was also his consulting room. He had an arrangement of three chairs, where the doctor-–patient chairs faced opposite to each other and an extra chair was placed at the side. There was no need for a table, so he had just placed a small tea-table in the center. The room was elegantly filled with paintings and scenic pictures. The vibrations were extremely encouraging.
Amisha appointed herself work which she avidly carried out. Her room was quite similar to Devansh’s. She knit her own clothes and mastered embroidery. Her days mostly passed within her tiny world and she was quite happy with that.