Chapter 1
Amisha Roy had a brief history of having humourless nightmares which made her life quite disturbing. She was sleeping on her bed, deeply engrossed in a bizarre fantasy one night, and trying to free her legs entwined in her blanket. Only she occupied her bed, but it experienced an unseen visitor at every corner ever so often through her dreams. Amisha kicked her legs, sweated in her clothes and even bawled at times. She kept crying out, “No! No!” and rolling her face in misery:.
Amisha opened the door in haste and stood by it. She was out of her breath, so she halted by the door looking at the crowd. Some creepy eyes turned to look at her by the door and perceived her differently. The ones she faced were angry, sad and even crying. She was nervous, but she tried to keep herself calm. As she moved forward to take a stand, she noticed one familiar face, Margaret, who looked incredibly happy seeing her. People were looking at her angrily which intimidated Amisha. The room was dead quiet, like a monastery. People didn’t talk, but yet their silence buzzed.
Amisha stood on one side of the dock in the courtroom and stiffened her body like an athlete, tightening her chest. She had been accused of something hideous by her own friend. She looked into her friend’s eyes where she was standing on the other dock. It was so awkwardly silent that even her own heartbeats were audible.
The Judger signaled to begin the case. The day of the verdict had finally arrived after many tiring months of the indictment trial. Most of the people were outraged. They were waiting for the judgment with curiosity and desperately praying for a life-long sentence for Amisha.
A church bell tolled loudly. Birds chirped outside the window, and the trees eavesdropped.
The trial went on for two long, silent hours when finally, the time came. Amisha Roy anxiously held the dock and pulled herself together. The case concerning six deaths and was at the brink. It was the most dazzling case throughout the history of the country which had come to an end. At last, the appraiser banged the gavel in favour of the girl.
Amisha’s friend had a gigantic smile on her face, smirking with superiority. She walked away free. Everyone was merrily celebrating Amisha’s defeat. She wept in front of Margaret, her maid, and held her in her arms tightly. But soon she was handcuffed by the police and dragged outside the courtroom. People threw abusive words at her and cursed her with a slow death.
The media tried to reach to her and question her, but Amisha ignored it. She was accompanied by two police officers Officer Gaurav and Officer Nishant along with the Commissioner of the state Police. As Amisha was driven off in the car, she saw herself beaten to death by the curses people threw at her.
Fortunately, at that moment, she woke up from her nightmare and saved herself from such a tragedy. She jumped out of bed, went downstairs and sneaked into the kitchen. She drank some water from the fridge and sighed.
Margaret heard the noise and came to see what happened. She saw Amisha standing near the basin, scared and looking dreadful. Quickly she inquired, “What happened? Are you alright?”
Amisha took deep breaths. She replied slowly, “Yes,” and put the bottle back in the fridge.
Margaret’s eyes were filled with questions as she looked at Amisha’s sweaty clothes. “I thought you were sleeping upstairs?” Margaret asked.
“I was,” Amisha replied. “I can’t sleep well. These stupid visions I am having are troubling me.”
“I thought you were over them.”
“I don’t know. Perhaps, they are due to these hard times.”
Margaret placed her hands on Amisha’s shoulders and said, “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”
Amisha was less worried about her dreams and more worried about the current state of the town. She kept thinking, again and again, about the present state, but it just clouded her mind.
“Do you want something to eat?” asked Margaret.
Amisha was lost in her thoughts. She barely heard her, but Margaret wasn’t going to allow her to struggle so much with her own thoughts and hurt herself silently. She tried to pull her out of her fantasies.
“Amisha!” she exclaimed.
Amisha became conscious. Blankly, she asked, “What?”
“I said, ‘Do you want something to eat?’” Margaret repeated.
“No, I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
Amisha didn’t reply to that. Trying to divert the conversation, she remarked, “I would prefer a green apple and a glass of fruit juice for dinner.”
Margaret knew what Amisha was doing, but she didn’t say it out loud.
“Fine,” Margaret replied with a frown.
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.