• Published : 02 Dec, 2019
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Mrs. Mehra stood on the podium holding both her husband’s hands in hers and smiling into his eyes. Everybody cheered for them, except me. How could I cheer when I heard Mrs. Mehra’s actual thoughts loud and clear like an audio podcast?

Twenty years…two lovely children, one cute dog, a hot tart in every business destination, and guilty gifts for the good wife back home. Enjoy the food and champagne everyone. And bless us on our “love anniversary”!

Who’d believe I can read minds? Me, Jai Sharma, law professor – the one person most likely to dismiss all such supernatural phenomena as mumbo jumbo! Initially, when I began hearing people’s voices telling me their thoughts, I was in denial. So I made it a point to corroborate what I heard with evidence. And every single time, it turned out I’d heard right! Finally, I accepted my ability as just one of those things that not everyone can see or experience, but one that exists nevertheless.

It was a well-known but unacknowledged fact that Mr. Mehra was a player. Poor Mrs. Mehra! As a marriage grows older, it becomes hard to tell if it is a charade or a convenience. Or just a habit that you can’t get rid of, like gorging on comfort food.  You don’t stop until a heart attack or diabetes forces your hand. Sadly, Mrs. Mehra’s marriage was being eaten alive by its maladies, pretty much like mine. The day I realised the truth about my marriage still rankles in a deep corner, but I have brokered my own truce of convenience with it. After a gruelling day of discussing case studies in class, I had stopped at a café en route home for some coffee and quiet. There was a couple sitting in the cafe when I walked in. As the light was low, I didn't know who they were until the woman turned around, and I saw it was my wife. I ducked out of sight and sat at a table in a far corner from where I could watch without being seen. The dim lighting helped. I could not hear them but Rina’s eyes shone like jewels with unshed tears. The man talked agitatedly and Rina squeezed his hand.

I have not discussed the matter till date with Rina. What was the point? Besides, I already knew about Rina’s ennui with our marriage. It had been Diwali and I had gifted her a platinum chain with a solitaire pendant. She’d held it up, her eyes sparkling. The spectral colours of the oscillating diamond spread and what I saw through the light had darkened my life forever. Rina’s thoughts behind that dazzling smile and diamond were full of disdain – The same trashy baubles year after year. When’s it going to end?

I was so shocked it felt like I was back in the same hospital room from ten years ago when I lost my beloved father and brother Lakshya in a car accident. The accident changed my life irrevocably. But all I can recall of it is my head hitting the roof of the car and a white flash of light and me thinking I am dying or already dead. When I woke up, I’d felt a tad extra sensitive, extra perceptive about the people around me. Maybe my brain chemistry got altered in some way. I could hear people’s thoughts. All their thoughts reverberated in my head simultaneously like in those silly Hollywood romcoms. It was disorienting and scary as hell. I didn’t talk to any of the doctors about it. I knew what it was – post-traumatic stress disorder, PTSD. My dad and brother were dead while I got to live. All I’d wanted was to crawl into a hole and sleep and never wake up.

Later, when I got back on my feet, I did not hear people’s thoughts anymore. I was convinced it was PTSD, that is until it resurfaced last Diwali. My ability to read minds was my sole cross to bear. Who could I discuss it with? Who’d believe that I could read my wife’s infidel thoughts, my mother’s worries, the greengrocer’s unscrupulous ways, our maid’s pilfering tendencies? I felt utterly helpless, so I did what I did all those years ago – slept it off. When awake, I turned to my work, books, into my own self. I didn’t seek medical help. They’d never believe me. Instead, they would chalk it down to residual trauma or some such crap and drug me into a zombie. I had a job as a professor in one of the most reputed law colleges in the city to keep.

*****

The sun felt good on Vishakha’s arthritic bones. As she rubbed warm oil on her swollen knees, her thoughts were dominated by her son. Jai seemed so listless these days. It took her back to that tragic phase when she’d lost her husband and younger son, Lakshya in a car accident. The truck ahead of their car had braked suddenly to slow down, causing the speeding car to crash into the truck. The entire front seat of the car was mangled. Jai, who sat in the centre of the back seat chatting up his Baba and Lakshya, had survived with minor bruises to the face and limbs. Jai had hurtled into a bottomless abyss, sleeping for days, no bath, no food. Getting him back on his feet had kept Vishakha sane at the time. She closed her eyes on trembling tears.

*****

“You read late again last night, Jai!” Rina said. “Do you know sleeping less than five hours increases your death risk by 15%?”

“Don’t worry my dear, I’m not dying anytime soon.”

Her thoughts went – He’s not ranted about the juice today, thank God!

My stomach clenched.

“The juice still tastes weird! Did you check the expiry date, Rina?” I asked, sadistically negating her thoughts.

Her thoughts were far more evil – The tetra pack’s not expired; You are going to expire slowly…soon…

Everything turned mute, slow motion. My heart skipped beats as if to match the revised pace.

“The juice is good for another week. Are you okay Jai? You look kind of pale…” Rina enquired.

Her frown deepened with her thoughts – Is he getting suspicious?

“I- I- I am okay. Got to rush!” I mumbled before dashing off to work.

I slumped in the seat of my car. Each time I heard Rina’s hate-filled thoughts, a part of me died. When did she start hating me so much? Why? What have I done? Where did I lack? I took several calming breaths before I was able to drive to work. Cars honked at me accusingly. They seemed to hate me, too. Come join my wife’s hate club, I screamed in the confines of my car. Tears glistened on my beard like morning dew in the mirror. If it weren’t for our son Varun, I’d walk away.

*****

Professor Rusi entered the staff room. I fervently hoped he wouldn’t come to my desk. I couldn’t bear the prospect of laughing at his lame jokes. Not today. He’s nicknamed me “Blue”, short for “dean’s blue-eyed boy”. The dean did appreciate me for choosing academia over fame and wealth, despite a gold medal in law. But then teaching law is more than just a job for me. I go beyond the strictures of the curriculum to prepare my students for the real world, something my law school did not do for me.

The students love you, your colleagues respect you, the dean swears by you. Lucky bastard, Rusi would often say with his hyena-like laugh. I did not find it funny at all. Luckily, it was Wednesday. He had back-to-back classes today.

The staff room was empty. I was on the last student assignment of the week. I closed my tired eyes for a moment before starting the evaluation. When I opened them, the staff room was dark. My watch glowed 9:00 PM. I had slept for four hours! My phone showed eight missed calls from Rina. I messaged I would be in late.

******

 “Varun, my child, you must eat fruits if you want to be tall like your father. He was just like you – a no fruit, no veggies kid.”

“But he grew tall anyway, Dadi.”

“That’s because he ate what I asked him to. So finish up your fruit. Quick. No more fussing.”

“Hello stranger, when did you get home yesterday?" asked Rina serving me breakfast. “And why were you sprawled on the living room couch?”

My answer was aborted by her thoughts – What’s this new drama? As if it’s not bad enough already…

A retort sprang to my lips but I clenched my teeth. I could feel Ma’s eyes on me, her thoughts worried – What’s the matter with you Jai?

I got up, my breakfast untouched. I slammed the front door and left for work.

*****

The cafeteria boy was his usual dour self.

“Good morning, Chhotu! One plate idli sambhar.”

Dour face’s thoughts were equally dour – What’s so good about the morning, your honour!  

He served me breakfast also laced with his joyous thoughts – Enjoy the idli with yesterday’s sambhar, Sirji.

Was there anybody happy in this world at all? I doubted it. I ate without protest. The food was only stale, not poisoned.

******

“Hey! You look a little under the weather. All okay?” Rusi asked as soon as I sat at my desk.

His thoughts were not as solicitous – What’s the matter noble prof? Your halo’s dimmed a bit…

Hell! I can’t take this anymore. I just want my skill to go away. All the muck out there is depressing.

*****

That evening, I stopped at one of my old haunts – the City Council Library. The quiet environs of the old library, the sweet, musty smell of books, and the flutter of turning pages soothed my fraught nerves. Hours passed by in a jiffy. I went to the librarian to check out a few books to my account before closing time.

Mrs. Dastur, the regular librarian was missing. In her place was Arun Kumar, as his badge declared.

“Mr Sharma, do you want to borrow this new book by Robert Galbraith for your wife? She asked for it when she last visited us.” Arun enquired, politely.

I got my books and Galbraith for Rina and waited while the librarian made entries in his computer. He appeared to be in his early forties, sharp-featured and vaguely familiar. A tortured sound escaped my throat, making Arun’s head jerk up from his keyboard. Arun was the man I had seen at the café with Rina! And to my growing horror, I realised that he was a dead ringer for my son Varun, but with grey hair and mature skin. I couldn’t stop staring at Arun as he handed the books to me.

His casual gaze belied his curious thoughts – so you are Rina’s husband…

The books fell from my nerveless fingers. I rushed out of the library and collapsed on a bench outside.

 “No Rohan, no Rohit, no Vineet, no Virat Pirat, my son will be named Va-run!”

I remembered how stubborn Rina had been when naming our son.

Varun Arun. Of course, I see why now.

What an utter idiot I’ve been. I drove home like a maniac, my thoughts reverberating Rina-Arun-Varun.

*****

“Oh no! I guess the resemblance…listen, Jai’s home. I’ll call later.” I heard Rina say softly into the phone.

I saw her walking towards me, her thoughts anxious – God give me strength….

Her voice sounded blurred.  “Jai, I wanted to tell you about Ar—”

There was loud ringing in my ears. Then a high-pitched voice shouted, “Jai, what’s wrong with you? Jai…Jai…Jai wake up!”

*****

I woke up in an impossibly white hospital room that amplified Rina’s pink sari. She hugged me and pushed my hair away from my forehead to plant a kiss. I’d had a nervous breakdown last week.

She roughly brushed the tears from her eyes. She closed her eyes and then said resolutely, “Jai, I wanted to talk—”

The nurse came in and gave me an injection and a few pills. Once we were alone, Rina took my hand in hers.

“Jai, Arun is my younger brother. I never told you about him. I was scared.”

Apparently, Arun had been wrongly arrested for a crime he never committed. The law acquitted him but the people never did. He’d gone away and worked as a manager in an obscure little company that manufactured paper clips in a remote town. After more than a decade, his past haunted him out of his anonymity and job. Rina had gotten him the librarian’s post.

What an elaborately spun story, what a consummate actress, I thought. It was unbelievable…the extent to which people go to cover their tracks…

 *****

Jai’s distant almost hostile look shattered all of Rina’s illusions and hope. Her Jai, law professor par excellence, suffered from delusions – Paranoid schizophrenia in medical terms.

“Nonsense! There’s NO history of schizophrenia in his family” she’d told the Doctor, her temper rising.

The doctor had explained that Jai’s schizophrenia was not congenital but the result of trauma, most likely his father and brother’s demise. The symptoms were all there. Suspiciousness, uneasiness with others, hallucinations, delusions.

“I have not seen a single symptom. You’re mistaken, Doctor!”

The Doctor had gently revealed to her that during the psychiatric evaluation, Jai had confessed that his wife wanted him dead so she could be with her lover. And luckily for him, he was saved by a higher power that helped him read people’s minds...

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About the Author

Rekha

Joined: 06 Sep, 2019 | Location: ,

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