I knock once more, louder this time.
The door is finally pulled open, "Yes?" She asks before she recognises me. Always ever courteous- Dr. Ekta, yet a little deaf even now.
"Annika," the colour drains off the doctor's face, and she almost closes the door on my face.
"Please. I need your help," I plead.
The doctor weighs me with her sore eyes.
I can see the fight in her. Whether she should let me in or not.
She leaves the door, walking away.
But the door is left open, to enter.
It is kindness, after what I did to her. If I was in her place, I would close that door before letting a word in. That's the difference between a doctor and a patient. Especially a therapist. She would help me even after everything.
Her office has downsized since the last time I visited her. I remember walking up to her office, on the ninth floor, with a pre-booked appointment, two weeks prior.
If there was a patient inside, there were two more waiting outside. And her room. . .was not this small.
I'm trying hard not to judge, but. . .
She has lost a lot, and it's all my fault.
"So what have you come for now?" she settled on a squeaky chair.
"I-- I--" I close my mouth as only air escapes it. I simply raise the slip in my hand, which reads, "Certificate for Mental Stability"
-To whomever it may concern.
This certificate is granted to Mr./Ms./Mrs. Ms. Annika Singh Oberoi, certifying the recipient to be of clear and sound mind.
She/He/They are in no way mentally compromised and is able to take care of another individual and make decisions on their behalf.
"I need your signature on this," She pulls up her square glasses, although she knows what it is from the yellow colour of the certificate.
She reads each word, intently. Ekta throws the yellow thing on the glass table before her, ending up laughing, "Wait for a second. You want my help? After all these years? The great Annika Singh Oberoi needs a stupid civil servant like me?" She continues cackling in sadness, "Why me? Just throw your money before anyone else in this hospital and I'm sure they will be happy to earn a buck, sitting on their backs."
That's it. If I sit here one more second, I risk exploding into pieces, that the doctor would have great fun in poking and breaking further.
So I get up, grabbing the certificate, "It's been a pleasure, Doctor."
"Ah Ah, I never said I wouldn't sign it. Besides the upper offices have stopped taking bribes since I came down here. Scared they'll be sent behind me you know?"
I nod, giving her a parrot's smile, passing the certificate for the second time.
"What's the hurry? Sit down. If I have to sign on it. I stake my reputation and authority over it, whatever leftover I have anyway."
"I have to hurry," my fists clench on their own. The doctor just stares at me, waiting, "That certificate- I need it. At all costs. My dad's-"
"Of course. It would take more than a bruise to get you back on that couch."
My eyes land on the rusty couch, I sit on. It looks ancient from afar, but even feels ancient when you sit on it, "All thanks to you," Ekta says, her voice filled with sass.
"What I did was-" I start, but she's ready to rain squares of black charcoal on me.
"You complained about me, to the damn founder of the hospital. And I was done for," she crossed her legs tight, one above another, "Of course. It's not your fault if they take a sick girl's word over her doctor's. Not if the sick girl was splurged and spoilt with heaps of money."
Her words cut through an innate sense of me, "You know it wasn't like that."
"Yes. Because it was your father who was so keen on me going. He was always against me-" she slips, but stops, realising who she was talking to, "Probation. I served probation. Even after they couldn't find anything wrong with me, they shifted me 3 floors down, Annika. Three Freaking floors down. Because you thought, I was too 'Provoking'? That was the word you used right?"
I stare at the ground, feeling ashamed for the first time in forever.
Dr. Ekta handles herself, in a breath, and. she's back, "Where do you-"
My phone starts ringing. It's Shivay. I can talk to him later, so I lower the volume, stacking it away.
However, that catches the doctor's eye, "Who was that?"
"No one. Just an office worker," I try playing it off as casual, but she squints her eyes, leaning closer.
"Name?"
"Shivay," I stretch back. That's when my phone pings again. Thrice, one after the other. It's Shivay again, messaging me.
-What location is our said date scheduled on?
-No wait. I have an amazing place in mind.
-So be ready for some top-level distraction coming your way.
I put my phone on silent mode and close the phone up.
Maybe I should just cancel this date thing. He sounds so hopeful, while I'm here, fighting my past with words rather than a shovel.
When I look at Ekta, she looks pretty shaken up. Like she's seen a ghost. Or cut into raw green chilli.
She knows something, something about Shivay.
The next second, her face shifts back to bland, "So Annika. Who is he?" she innocently asks, even though she knows Shivay.
"He's aaa- complicated."
"I thought you said he worked for you. What's so complicated about that?"
So many questions. I huffed out a breath, coughing apart my words, "It's never easy with you, is it."
"You could say that in front of a mirror and it would still be valid," she smiled, sticking her lips together.
I tsked, "He did work for me, but I fired him. He's been behind me for some time, trying to impress me for some reason," I give a long sigh. If only Shivay could see me lying right now, "I keep telling him off, but the guy just doesn't take a hint." I put all the rage sitting at use, gained from months of confusion and agony.
The doctor is quiet, trying to see through me by her piercing gaze.
But I'm not as transparent and weak as before. I'm better now. I prefer being translucent.
She'll see the sides I let her. And After, I will walk out of here with all of me intact.
A hand snaps me back to attention, "So have you told him yet?"
"Who? Shivay?"
"Yes, about what you remembered." I strike to attention at her words.
What the hell. How does she know-
My hand reflexes towards my phone but I don't stop talking, "Remember what now?"
"You have started remembering things. Haven't you?" her chin lowers.
I swallow, as I ask her my next question, "How do you know that?"
She smirks," I just do."
"How?" my phone locks tight in my palm.
If she knows, means she's somehow involved.
Shivay was right. I can't trust anyone.
"Open your hand, Annika. I'm not the one who wants to hurt you," she says, her voice dropping," Let's just say that your dad's in the hospital for a reason, Annika.
"A man like that doesn't get heart attacks every day," she leans nearer, an excitement sparking in her," There has to be some improvement in you. You must finally be getting closer."
Getting closer to what? "What do you mean?"
"I can't tell you what I mean. I don't have all the facts," she sighs, "You were my patient once upon a time. So tell me, what's troubling you?" Dr. Ekta picks up the pen again.
"Nothing," my answer is quick, but not believable," I'm perfectly fine."
"Perfectly fine, right," she clicks her pen, grimly.
"No!" I shout before Ekta casts her final vote on the certificate.
I don't know what to say ahead.
"It's okay. You don't have to search your head for this. You can start with something simple. Like the things, you've begun to recollect."
I don't say a thing. Yet.
"See, if you don't start talking, I will be forced to keep you in sessions for longer. And your dad may get a discharge, but you'll never find the answers you're looking for. You need to talk about it with someone, Annika."
"I saw him. Shivay. Sort of in an imagery," I blurt it out and it feels like a firecracker exploding slowly.
My therapist doesn't show it but I know she's happy, "I get these blurs sometimes. They are like dreams. Some are stills, pictures. Stopping before me. Sometimes they feel like videos playing on a screen. But I'm in them somehow."
"Since when has this been happening?"
"Recently. A few weeks," she nods in acknowledgment.
"In cars?" she inquires, while her pen keeps scribbling on.
"No. Airplanes too. I don't think its ever happened in a car. I've not driven a car until now. That proof of my insanity?" I pull at her, even though she holds my leash. What crazy risks do you take, Annika.
"That's okay. It is a fear- yes. Definitely not out of the ordinary. If the fear escalates, then it's a completely different case. But I know that's not what's happening here. You haven't been dealing with your emotions- any of them," she tsks annoyed, "It has been two years, and you've just started remembering things? We're you on medication?"
"Medication?" I scratch my head, "No. I never took any after the first few months."
"Strange," she says, reading from my old records," According to your recovery rate, without any anti-depressants, you would have started feeling and recollecting sooner. . .Think about it harder. How were you feeling before you started getting these blurs?"
"I don't know, I don't remember," I pressed my head.
"No need to worry. Usually, with cases of survivor's guilt, our defense mechanisms act up. Defence mechanisms don't allow us to remember much of the traumatic event or things associated with it. And your plate was already full- with the physical wounds and the coma."
"Yeah, but something's been road-blocking me for the past year," I sigh.
But something in her words does not sit right with me.
I repeat it, in my head.
For a girl who keeps forgetting things, I have impeccable memory of the last few words I had with her.
Survivors guilt. Cases of Survivor's guilt.
That's what she said.
Which
means
I survived
but
someone
didn't.
I try to hide the shock, and the utter joy of getting some information out of this.
I have to distract her before she realises and covers it up in another lie like the others.
"I know Shivay was a part of my past."
She exhales tired, "As I said I can't reveal any of what you've forgotten. The other doctors have strictly guided me to adhere to that protocol."
I have to be smart here. Dr. Ekta may have slipped up once, but she's a very experienced therapist, "You said I can't ask you about the past. But you can tell me about the time I was asleep. What exactly happened? I need to know. I need to know about the time you could see me, but I couldn't see you."
She thinks it over before she starts speaking, "Well, Annika it is very normal for those memories to get foggy. As you were still recovering. But I wasn't doing anything then. Your body was static. So was your brain. Physically you were healing quicker than anticipated but mentally you were stranded for a long while, and I think you are now too."
"Your head was covered in bandages, the dressing was changed regularly, and sometimes more often when there was bleeding. And during all of this, your family never left your side. . . I don't know how bad the car accident was but your hands had all these scars powering over the older marks. Your feet were also in pretty bad shape. It was all wrong. You shouldn't have gotten so many scars if you went into a coma at the point of pressure."
"The doctors couldn't join those dots too. But they concluded that you felt the pressure on your head after the glass had penetrated through your skin from the accident-"
"Stop. That's enough," I didn't notice how close my hands were to cover my ears. The image is too jarring to bear.
"You're right. I've told you too much, you better go before someone comes looking for you," she strikes a huge E before signing.
"Thank you, " I take the certificate from her grasp before she changes her mind," I have one last question. Was I the one driving?"
"You know I can't tell you that," she says, bending her head.
"Please, I deserve to know that much," I shiver.
"No," She nods, "It was good seeing you, and even after everything, I hope you get better. You are close. Do not leave the force driving you closer," I know what she's saying.
"Don't worry, I won't leave him," I promise, walking out.
I hear the doctor's door close and with it, so does this chapter of my life.
No, not quite yet.
I take the stairs down to the reception. But the smell of Halwa forces me to take a detour to the first-floor canteen.
And as I order, I realise how taxing talking about your feelings can be. Especially to your appetite. It takes a plate of rajma-chawal and an entire bowl of halwa before I feel energised again.
Once I'm done, I slowly stroll through the staircase, watching out the glass windows. I try not to think about it- the thing that the doctor let slip. How can I forget such an important detail?
I don't know when time flies as my phone buzzes in my pockets.
Shivay is calling me, "Hello?"
"Where are you?" He asks in an excited voice.
"I'm-" I find myself looking for words, staring at the blue sky, turning darker by the second, "I'm at the hospital."
"Perfect. You stay right there."
Before I could ask why, he cut the phone. What cheerful monster has gotten into him?
Guess I have to wait to find out. What time is it anyway?
6.13 pm. How even.
I'm so so late. Where did the time go? . . Shivay will be here soon. I need to move.
The ground floor is quiet at the moment. The receptionist is lost in typing. The rush of the day has sort of disappeared. With the doctors gone home, not many remain waiting. I need to finish this certificate business before Shivay arrives.
As I approach the reception, she looks up. A smile weighs against her tire, staring at what lays in my hand"Finally."
I almost give the certificate to her in one go. No, "Wait."
"Yes?"
I inch closer, "I filed a complaint, about a year ago against someone in your hospital," I exhale slowly, "I want to take it back."
The receptionist is deep diving into my eyes like I grew horns or something, then her lips curve into a big smile.
But her eyes aren't locked on me, they go past me, at someone else.
I don't have to turn to know who it is.
Shivay sticks his tongue out, making a funny face, behind me.
I fold my hands against my chest, "What do you think you're doing."
His shoulders crouch back, turning him into the innocent murti he so is, "I'm just trying to make you smile."
"It's not easy to make someone smile, you know."
"Worked on her," he whispered, pointing to the receptionist behind us.
"It's very hard to make me smile," yes, the me that is trying hard not to smile as I speak.
But he doesn't know that.
Shivay raises his eyebrows, "Challenge Accepted. Before this evening ends, you will smile."
"We'll see," his eyes fall on the files on the reception, files labelled,' COMPLAINTS- 2019'
While we were busy in the world's most important conversation, the receptionist has removed the file of complaints filed over the year 2019. The year my treatments ended.
"We leave you alone for one second, and you're out here filing an official complaint against someone," said Shivay.
"I'm not filing a complaint against anyone," I hit his shoulder lightly, "I needed to right a wrong. "
He laughs, "It is not so easy to correct a wrong. When we go to repair something we broke, sometimes we end up breaking it further," he is standing right here, but by his words, Shivay feels far gone, lost in a locked memory.
"Shivay," I snap my fingers, bringing him back.
"So where were we?" He asks.
But I forget to answer. I know what to do. Something better than taking down a foul complaint, "Shivay, thank you," I run my hand across his cheek, smiling in excitement.
I run to the lift that is about to close, not before his words fall in my ears, "I TOLD YOU I'D MAKE YOU SMILE!"
⋆ ⭒ ⋆
Words: 2886
I can't believe we are at the 20th chapter?
The urge to call Shivay- Shivay Singh Oberoi is so strong. Like that man owns the name Oberoi.
That was it for the chapter! This was just a key, next one has one of the biggest reveals, something that will knock the shoes off Annika.