Catalyst !!

***

He closed his eyes and all the white turned black. Bright yellow light above his face slowly turned blackness into shade of crimson. His eyelids lit. He had been here so many times that just by sound of it he could know what was happening around. Slow movement of wheeled table, sticking sound of rubber gloves, clicking sound of cuffs and locking sound door knob, all indicated that it was time. He heard the sound of the switch and concentrated on the hum of electricity. He could hear tiny mechanical parts coming to life. A hand touched his temple and left with cold sticky wax. A smooth but hard metal plate was fixed on the wax. It was like wearing a headphone but with no music playing. And then with another switch his body jerked. He could hear screams but was not sure that it was his own. It felt like a wave passing through his brain, pulsing high and low at the same time. He could feel his body dissolve in liquid and just the brain floating in air and he started counting the pulses…1…2…3…and again…1…2…3…

***

The two were left alone. It was 7 minutes after midnight. Balloons, filled and burst, were scattered all over the place. Disposable plates and glasses left here and there. Half eaten cake and open soda cans visible around spaces. Small pieces of glitters and sparkles scattered throughout the floor like it had rained from the fan. Smell of cheese filled the air. Little, one year old, Avantika was sleeping peacefully in her small hanging bed in room. Neha turned to her side on the sofa facing Manoj. He was still facing the ceiling, his eyes closed. ‘It was exhausting’ she said. ‘We don’t know these people.’ Manoj said without moving. ‘It was your idea anyway’ He added. ‘We need friends’ she said and placed her head on his shoulders.

Manoj have never liked parties. He thought parties were only for people who like to show off. It’s been few months Manoj and Neha moved to Pune with their newborn. Manoj’s job at bank had not given him much opportunity to settle down at one place. But now with a child to take care, this moving business has become a burden. Apart from few from the bank, they didn’t know anyone and their daughter’s birthday gave them a chance to invite few neighbors. To their surprise they all turned up. ‘Isn’t it weird?’ Manoj said opening his eyes. ‘I mean, someone turns up to your door and invites for a party and you without knowing them, attend it like a relative’s marriage’

‘They all need friends I guess’ Neha doubted her own statement. ‘Let’s open the gifts’ she stood up in excitement and started towards the table which was full of boxes wrapped with glittering paper. Before she could reach, Manoj shouted, ‘No… We can’t just open them inside the house’

His words echoed into silence of the night. Neha turned to him, surprised, ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Don’t you know the story about gifts?’ Manoj threw a look towards the pile of gift boxes and turned his gaze back to his wife. She turned back to look at the table and walked back towards the sofa.

‘It was few years back when I heard about this. In another party, when they started opening the gifts, one of the gifts appeared which they were not sure was from a person who was invited. They started opening it. In the box there was nice dress. But as soon as they opened the dress further their eyes went wide. The box felt from their hand. All they could see was a lemon poked with iron nails, a black handmade doll, few pieces of bones, and a white flower garland all covered in red color. And few days after his wife died of unknown reasons and his son was admitted in hospital. Doctors couldn’t even identify his illness’

Manoj looked back to Neha. His eyes still terrified. Neha couldn’t understand whether to get scared or to laugh. She was not one who believes in ghosts and black magic superstitions. ‘Stop all this nonsense Manoj’ She said. ‘You said you heard it right? That can be a lie too’ 

Who was telling the story? And whose story was it anyway? 
The words fluttered and flew in the wind.

Neha was not in the mood to ask these questions anyway. Leaving Manoj in the hall, Neha went to the bedroom. She was tired. Manoj sat there staring the gift boxes.

***

Two decades back…Kamal sat on black metal chair facing pale white wall of the hospital. ‘Who could have done this?’ Kamal asked mostly to himself, clearly devastated on the turn of events. A shopkeeper from profession, Kamal could not think of anyone who could have hated him so much to hurt him. As a shopkeeper, his business depended on the relations whom he maintained and in any case he could not have compromised with his business. Dr. Bijlani, also his closest friend could not answer. What he could do was, keep his hands on Kamal’s shoulder and say, ‘everything will be alright. World is full of psychopaths’

Kamal drove home. His son Minku sat in the back seat of the car holding the pot of ash. His mother was dead. The priest of the cremation ground had asked them to perform few rituals at home before taking it to Kshipra River. In the mirror he looked at his son sitting at the back seat of the car and a drop of tear appeared into his eyes which he brushed off.

***

Few days back his was a happy family. It was tenth anniversary of Kamal and his wife Sudha, when it all started. When all the guests had left, behind them they left hall room full of flowers and gifts for the couple. As soon as they were alone Minku started galloping around the gift boxes, pleading with his cat like eyes to open them. Amused with their son’s enthusiasm they started opening the gift boxes, starting from prettiest wrapper. Sudha picked up the box which didn’t have any name on it. Secret admirer or forgetful fool? She started opening the small but elegant looking box wrapped in golden paper. A red band beautifully turned into some unknown flower. She took away the lid and her eyes widened by the sight of what was inside it. A hand written note appeared on top of it. Sudha took out the note, while both Kamal and Minku looked at her in disbelieving expression. It said, ‘I have returned’. Just by reading it Sudha had a shock. She was unconscious for hours before Dr. Bijlani had asked Kamal to admit her in hospital. Dr. Bijlani knew about the abortion which Sudha had gone under. It was immediately after their marriage and both Kamal and Sudha were not ready for a child yet. Though Sudha was reluctant at first but she herself was not sure that she was ready for motherhood. Dr. Bijlani had told them it was a normal procedure and since she was in just 6 weeks of pregnancy, there was no danger of any kind at all.

The guilt remained till their son was born after 3 years and soon they all forgot about it until this very event. Other things with the note were enough for Sudha to believe. The small handmade doll, in the box, covered in vermillion, became her dead daughter. Kamal was devastated. He had always thought something of this kind can never happen to him. He would have laughed if Sudha had not reacted the way she did. He had thrown away the lemon, bones and garland into Kshipra River but he was not able to throw the black doll, which Sudha thought was her dead daughter.

Sudha was not responding to any treatment. Dr. Bijlani soon realized that the guilt of killing her own child was so strong that it was almost impossible for her to fully recover. He advised Kamal to take her home and bring her to hospital only for the sessions which were prescribed by the psychiatrist.       

Soon the house turned into a nightmare. Kamal’s seven year old son, unknowingly, became part of it. Sudha started preparing breakfasts and lunches for 4 instead of 3. On dining table there would always be an extra plate with food and the doll would be kept on the chair. Kamal had tried stopping her but the screams and wailing of Sudha was unbearable. He started playing along and made his son play along too. He was OK as long as everything was normal. But soon he started seeing changes in his son.

And then one day, he saw his son talk to himself. ‘I am talking to my sister’ Minku explained and his mother smiled. Kamal lost it all. He took the black doll and threw it away. Sudha kept screaming whole night. His son kept crying for his mother and his sister. ‘I want to go to her’ Sudha kept shouting the whole way while they took her to hospital in the morning.

After two days Dr. Bijlani walked to Kamal with the news. ‘Her heart had stopped working. We have kept her on ventilator but biologically she is dead’ Dr. Bijlani said with sympathy. Kamal knew that this was coming. He cursed himself for celebrating his anniversary and cursed the person who did this to his family. He will never be happy.

***

Back home, he took the pot of ash from his son and put it on the dining table. ‘Are you hungry?’ He asked his son and he nodded in yes. Kamal took out a plate and gave him the leftovers from the night before. His son looked into the plate for few seconds and said, ‘for mom and sister?’ Kamal losing his mind, slapped him as hard as he could. A heart trembling wail broke out of his throat and all became silent.

‘He is in shock’ Dr. Bijlani told Kamal in the hospital while Minku slept in the ward. ‘I am afraid, in his innocence he had believed that both his mother and sister are not dead’ He continued, ‘We need to make him believe otherwise and make him understand the facts. This might be a long process and may require multiple psychiatric sessions. For now just play along’ Kamal wept on himself. ‘What is my fault? What have I done to anyone to go through this pain?’ he cried while all Dr. Bijlani could say was, ‘everything will be ok’.

Nothing turned back to OK. On the outer side it all looked normal but Kamal could hear his son talking behind the closed room. He had stopped asking for extra plates but he also started leaving his food uneaten. Kamal doubted that the leftovers were for his sister or his mother. Seeing no improvement at all, Dr. Bijlani suggested Kamal to take him to Mumbai for better opinion and better treatment, though he had already consulted with bests he had known. Kamal liked the idea, also because Sudha’s parents were living in Mumbai and this would be an opportunity for both of them to get some change from this terrible situation.

Doctors in Shivaji Memorial were not so friendly and the dean of the medical institute immediately suggest for shock treatment before it gets too late. Kamal shivered just by the thought of his little kid going under the shock treatment. He tried to pursue them. Called Dr. Bijlani back in Ujjain but it turned he was too reluctant to suggest the same and that might be the best way forward.

That night when Kamal heard his son talking to his mother, saying ‘I want to be with you’ he decided there was no other way. With support from his in-laws he signed the application form, approving the best treatment suggested by the doctors.

Kamal left for Ujjain. Medical expenses nearly broke him and he could not afford to sit home any longer. Shop must not be closed for long. Sudha’s parents, Sudha being their only child, were more than happy to keep their grandson with them.

Days started passing. With improvements, number of sessions decreased from week to month and then eventually to none. Kamal visited Mumbai every month and saw his son doing better not just in personal front but in studies and sports. ‘Bringing away from Ujjain must be best thing I might have done to him’ Kamal thought.

Soon it all became a distant memory. There were no more treatments and no more sessions. By the time he graduated, he was no different than any other student. In fact his brilliance in academic and sports made him better than most of the students.  When he joined a reputed bank as an assistant manager after completing his MBA, his grandparents were dead, only one remained to share the news was his father. After few months his father died of cardiac arrest. Dr. Bijlani said he didn’t suffer much. Minku remembered the last talk he had had with him before his father died, ‘I am very proud of you, Manoj’ He had said.

***

Neha woke up to the ringing phone and found front door of the house to be open. She could not find Manoj anywhere. As she picked up the phone, she realized there were no gift boxes on the table. ‘Hello’ she said on the phone.

‘Neha, look outside’ said a neighbor’s voice from other side of the receiver.

Neha walked out of the front door and phone fell from her hand. Manoj was sitting across the road opening gift boxes desperately. Shining wrappers were scattered all over street and torn boxes and the gifts inside them, were thrown here and there. A chill ran through her nerves and she ran towards Manoj. He looked up as if he didn’t recognize her. ‘Did you see my Sister?’ he asked her in his innocence and started removing wrapper from another box.

Few neighbors came to help Neha. They took Manoj back to the house while he kept asking for her sister. Neha took him to the room and locked it from outside. Manoj kept screaming and shouting to let him out to search for his sister.

‘Hello…Dr. Bijlani?’ Neha spoke on the phone. She knew, only person left who was related to Manoj’s family, was Dr. Bijlani in Ujjain.

Dr. Bijlani and Neha stood outside operating room of Shivaji Memorial hospital, watching from the glass window. A team of doctors were busy preparing electric machine, calibrating its intensity, while Manoj lay on the stretcher, lights burning just above his face. They put the electric cord across his temple and with a jerk his whole body started shaking. She could not hear his screams but could see the rubber log stuck between his teeth shudder like a railway track when the train passes through it. Thick viscous saliva drenched his face and neck. Hands were tightly clenched in fists and legs were stroking the cuffs around it in a rhythm as if counting…1…2…3…and again…1…2…3… 

***