Hi guys thank u for the support u gave me and also the suggestions. I will try to add all he actors and actresses you mentioned. So here is the first chapter of my ff.
I wait my turn on the chair outside the doctor’s office. The psychiatrist, to be precise. The so-called expert. We have travelled all the way from Mumbai to Bangalore to make this trip. Getting an appointment here is like getting an appointment to meet the Pope at the Vatican City. After many efforts Dad got the appointment here. It is one of the best mental health care centers in India. Or so I have been told. Perhaps it is. The drive to this place itself was ominous. I sit in our hired car and watched the surroundings. There was a blue board with large white letters proclaiming the name of the mental health institute which was spread over a campus of 10 acres , full of old buildings with fading yellow paint. We passed a large building brandishing a board which proclaimed it was some kind of guest house. The car passed the other buildings, the Psychiatry ward, the Casualty and Emergency services, the De-addiction center, the General ward, the Observation ward and the pale yellow cottages called units.
My dad went and joined a queue which was inching forward at the pace of a snail. I looked at my surroundings. I was feeling lost, helpless and angry. In my mind I was cursing the institute and the doctors here. They talk nonsense. I don’t want to be here. But my opinion doesn’t matter now. I had my chance and I screwed it up badly. Now I have no choice except to listen to my parents.I sit in between my mom and dad. I feel like a kid but I’m 21, a full grown adult. At least technically. I try to hide the scars on my wrist and adjust the broad leather strap of my wrist watch. Curious stares and worse the look of pity irks me. I don’t regret my earlier actions at all. Physical pain is far easier to bear than mental agony. I look at the anguish on my dad’s face and the look of constant worry on my mother’s brow. I don’t feel sorry for them at all. I don’t wish that I could erase them. I don’t want to comfort them or make them feel better. I am helpless. Beyond caring. I don’t want to see any other doctor. What is he going to tell me that others haven’t?
I looked around. The feeling made me sick. I wanted to shout that “ I’m not like u. I have won elections in my college. I used to be the Secretary of the Arts Association. I was doing my management from a fine business school. I am not like u all.” I wanted to tell them all but it feels like somebody has stuffed a cloth in my mouth. The psychiatrist inside will assess me and tell which action to be taken next.How does he know?? Can he look into my head? Does he even know what I am going through? Does medical school teach u to feel other’s pain or step into their shoes?? Eventually the nurse calls out my patient number. No one gives a damn about my name or what I used to be. I raise to enter his office and so do my parents. The doctor speaks to us. My dad is explaining him my ‘symptoms’. I wince. This is not how it is, I want to scream. But I don’t want them to think that I am out of control. So I dig my nails into my skin to prevent me from talking. The doctor asks my mom and dad to wait outside.
He looks at me. He looks nice and young. He seems kind but that does not fool me. I decide to co-operate. This is the best way. He then starts asking questions. I detest someone prying into my life like this. He starts with some mundane questions. Childhood, School, College. I look at him dully. I don’t feel like telling him anything.” Look “ he said” I need to enter all this info here. Do you want to tell me or do uou want me to ask from your parents?” I feel trapped, cornered, exasperated and suddenly very tired. I just want it to end. So I start to answer.
So guys how was it ?? Please tell