Aadhira
People lose their keys, their wallets, their phones… sometimes even their loved ones. Me? I had lost my mind.
Staring at the same unvarying scene for days on end, I had even memorized the patterns of the cracks in the walls. The dirty couch laden with our sweaty, threadbare clothes. The singular window she would tauntingly leave open, a dreary brick wall of an abandoned building the only view from it. The mocking caw of the crow that would visit every now and then. Look at me. I can soar through the skies, anywhere I want.
What I feared most was getting used to it. One day, I would just stop trying, yield to my circumstances like the weakling I was. I glanced furtively at the door… again. It wasn’t locked, of course. Devika didn’t need locks. Her hold on me was enough. Being so reverent of her, that’s what I hated about myself. Well, that and plenty other things.
I slithered off the couch into a wobbly standing position. Inched towards the door. A raging rainstorm created a raucous outside. I opened the door just a crack. Stood there, frozen, indecisive. It was a given that I’d be back here. Later if not sooner. But I was like a little bird with a broken wing. My attempt at flight could kill me, but I owed it to myself to at least try.
There was a little less of me than there used to be. I was clinging on to whatever memories I could dredge up, afraid that she would wipe those off forever. I had a drawer full of chocolate wrappers and greeting cards, arms inked with past regrets and albums full of people and places I called ‘home’. I wished I could lock these things up in a quaint little box with a note that said, ‘Aadhira was here’.
A cackle of lightning nudged me out of my indecisiveness. Opening the door wider, I edged out of the room. Meekly descended the first flight of steps. The next two flights were easier, almost as if gravity was pulling me out of my situation, more resolved than even I was. Now out in the driveway of the lodge where we stayed, I teetered. Raindrops pattered on my shoulders, a steady drumming which provided the background music for my great escape. I unlatched the gate and slipped out, shaking more from adrenaline than the drenching rainfall.
***
Devika
Shit.
That’s why we never leave the room. Aadhira had dragged her foolish ass to an open bazaar, crowded with strange faces and dubious intentions. A slanting sheet of rain bore into my back like cold daggers, but that was the least of my worries.
Damn you, Aadhira! If I’d spat the thought out, it’d be black as venom.
A piece of torn plastic got caught in my shoes. I kicked and flailed, but it wouldn’t untangle.
“The hell’s the matter with you?!” I snapped at it, my body unnaturally warm in the freezing storm.
I stiffened. I had done it again, gotten people’s attention. Passers-by hurrying to get out of the terrible weather stopped to look at me. Jeering. Jeering at Devika the Dim-wit, who couldn’t even find her way back home.
Uttering a long list of obscenities, I ran. I ran left and right. Ran where? Away from these people, that’s where. Soon, I exited the bazaar and was out on the road. The crowd here had thinned. Fewer people were out and about. Those that were out were rushing madly to get back to their homes. That is what smart people do, eh Aadhira? Next time a storm breaks out, maybe don’t gallivant to the bazaar.
I paused to catch my breath. But I didn’t have long. Something stirred in the shadows behind me. A murderer? A thief? A thug? I sprinted away, down a slippery road. Before I could run far, my ankles stumbled over something lying on the road. I fell flat on my face, knees badly bruised, and palms stinging from having scraped against the muddied gravel. I looked back to see what I had tripped over. An awkward lump lay on the road, covered by a stray piece of cloth. My heart thumped against my chest as blood rushed to my head. A bomb? A wounded feral animal? A… person? I wasn’t sure.
I wanted to get away, but apparently my legs didn’t. I was frozen solid, unable to move a muscle. Cramps shot up my belly.
This is it. This is how it ends. They’d find my lifeless form tomorrow and laugh. Laugh at how inadequate I‘d been all my life. I could hear the taunts. “Devika was such a horrid person, her parents must’ve felt glad when the fiery ball of flames finally relieved them of her.”
Dark spots danced around my vision. A car whizzed past, splashing muck onto my face.
With herculean effort, I pulled myself upright and reoriented. Figured out which direction my lodge was and trudged toward it, my energy diminishing with each step I took.
Soon, the lodge loomed into sight. Its sight instantly made me feel a lot better. I quickened my pace only to slip in the mud and crash to the ground – for the second time in under an hour. This time landing on my back.
A silhouetted person nearby saw me fall and came my way. What does he want? Ohmygod, what is that bulge under his clothes? A gun! The man extended his arm in my direction.
“Hold it fella!” I kicked him in the knees and slid backwards. The man’s face registered violent surprise as he bounded away. I tried to get up, but my hands wouldn’t find any bearing in the mud. The unrelenting rain tore through my skin.
I’d had enough.
My frustrations with the weather were mingled with my fury for Aadhira. Why won’t you just let me keep us alive, you witch?
My hand inevitably found my hair. I tugged and tugged until entire tufts came free. My other hand wound itself through the tears in my ripped jeans. I clawed my thighs and dug into the tender skin. I realized I had been holding pee in and needed to go, urgently. With heavy clouds thundering above and lightening flashing up the sky, I relieved myself. The last thing I remembered was a warm sensation seeping down my legs.
And then, there was only darkness.
***
Aadhira
Something was stinging.
I found myself panting in front of the infernal room. Back here again. The room’s brass number plate shone in the dim stairwell light.
300.
I wriggled with the door knob for a few moments, hands shivering from the fear and the cold. Once inside, I fought to take my sodden clothes off. As my jeans dropped to the floor, a strong stench burned my nostrils and I cringed. I looked around for a towel but couldn’t find it. Exhausted, I splattered on the couch, still wet and sticky, naked. I inspected my pricking thigh. Long gashes ran across it. As I gingerly traced the smarting skin, I noticed strands of damp hair entwined between my fingers.
She did this.
Grimacing from the effort, I shuffled to the bathroom for the first-aid kit. A jagged mirror above the bathroom cabinet reflected my fractured image: lifeless eyes, matted hair, and pale skin. Tension stretching my face tightly over my bones. I was beginning to feel scared how little disappointment I felt over my failed attempt to escape. Like it was routine. Except this time, Devika had resorted to inflicting physical injuries.
Not being able to find the ointment I needed after much fumbling, I limped back to the couch and melted on it. Drowsiness was not far along the corner. I fell into a restless sleep.
Two nearly forgotten faces haunted my dreams.
***
Aadhira
She had a slight skip in her step as she walked to her house. Shashank had come up to her and offered her a little card. They’d been stealing shy glances at each other in class for quite a while now. Today he’d finally mustered enough courage to tug at her sleeve after school. He’d awkwardly thrust a card in her palm, smiled his toothy smile and disappeared into the crowd. Being thirteen didn’t seem quite as daunting as before.
Her house was just along an alley at the next intersection. But as she neared it, the air grew thicker. Incongruous smog was gathering into the distance, replacing the cheerful wintry ambience. It was coming from the mouth of the alley. It was dense and swirling, having an existence of its own.
She took a faltering step backwards, needing to draw sharp breaths to take in the rapidly thickening air. She glanced backwards to see if she could run back the other way. No such luck. The smog was spreading from all directions, converging towards her like a monstrous wave. Not a soul in sight. She was trapped! What would happen when this substance finally engulfed her?
To her horror, she felt a touch at the nape of her neck. She let out a shriek and swivelled around. Two hands had appeared out of nowhere, trying to grab her into the alley. She recognised the hand from the watch hung on its wrist.
“Mommy!”
Whatever it was that filled the air stung at her eyes. Bewildered tears blurred her vision. Somewhere far away, a voice was calling out to her.
“Aadhira, Aadhira come back. Follow my voice. I’m right here…”
She had the sensation of being lifted off the ground, floating towards the sky. Then, her body lurched violently as the sun came terrifyingly close.
When I came to, I found myself in an office, thoroughly disoriented. I was lying on a comfortable sofa. A man was scribbling into a notebook behind a desk. Above him, on a cream-coloured wall, a plaque shone brilliantly against daylight.
Dr Chetan Mehra, M.D. Psychiatry.
Noticing that I’d come to, he glanced up from his notes.
“That’s enough for today, Aadhira. We’ll go deeper next time.”
I paused by a sidewalk below Dr Mehra’s office. Took in the scene before me, trying to sketch it forever on my retinas. People, faces, emotions. Here was a mother, smiling down at the resting toddler in her pram. There was an important looking businessman, talking into a Bluetooth earpiece. A beggar, all teeth and smiles, elated to have received a twenty-rupee note from a kind soul.
This is where life happens. Outside.
As I watched people, I sensed someone watching me. I looked up instinctively. Dr Mehra peeked at me from a curtained window. We made eye contact but he didn’t flinch. If this is to work, I’ll have to tell him about her. But would she let me?
As if on cue, I was grabbed from behind and thrown towards somnolent darkness. My few minutes of freedom were up.
***
Devika
Need to reach my room.
The thought rang in my head, it was my raison d’etrê. I hailed an auto-rickshaw and jumped in. Gave directions to the lodge and pushed back into the weathered leather seat.
I was disturbed. When Aadhira had suggested psychiatric consultation, I’d been unwilling.
“The only thing wrong with us is your stupidity. You just don’t listen! No doctor can fix that.”
But her incessant badgering had worn me down. Today’s session had been the third.
The doctor seemed oddly comforting. It was the eyes. They radiated a warmth that made you feel safer.
The rickshaw-driver’s phone buzzed. He proceeded to do the unthinkable: he received it!
“Excuse me.” I interrupted his conversation. “Could you not do that?”
The driver shot me a sour look through the mirror.
“Look out! Eyes on the road,” I shouted, pressing harder into the seat.
The driver waved my worries away and resumed his conversation.
I turned an ear towards the driver’s rived conversation, trying to discern if he meant me any harm.
“… She’s an idiot…”
Was he talking about me?
“…I’ll have to take care of it…”
Take care of what?
“Tomorrow’s no good. Maybe the day after…”
A conspiracy! They wanted to kill me, and it was going to happen day after tomorrow. Like hell!
“Stop,” I screamed.
The driver looked up at me into the mirror and raised an eyebrow.
“I want to get off here.”
That’s why we don’t leave the room.
I pulled out some cash and threw it into the driver’s face and stumbled out. Palpitations made it hard for me to walk. I was still a good way away from my room. I pulled the top I was wearing tighter around my body – Aadhira’s clothes always felt loose and misfit – and walked with my head down. Don’t attract too much attention. Don’t get into anybody’s business.
I stared at my toes as I walked without looking where I was going. Along the way, I passed a man wearing familiar cologne. The scent jolted dormant memories. I could almost feel the foul breath at the nape of my neck. I was back in that hellish bedroom. Sensations of hands groping at my chafed inner thighs came alive as I drifted in and out of consciousness. No, no, no! I clutched at my head, trying to break away from the past. I tasted sour bile rising in my throat as a dull bell echoed in the distance. A school nearby had broken out for the day. Children! Full of chatter and mischief and nervous energy.
My legs buckled as I fought a battle with my past and present simultaneously. I had to repress what’d happened to me in that monster’s bedroom and deal with this incoming horde of youngsters. I bent over, swallowing air faster than I could exhale. Beads of sweat raced down my forehead, forming wet blotches on the pavement below. From my peripheral vision, I could make out a few people walking in my direction. I was too weak to fight back. All I could concentrate on was restraining myself from hurling vomit all over the place.
It was becoming too much to handle. I was ready to give in. But there was a saving grace. Aadhira returned.
My feet were obeying orders I wasn’t giving them. And yet, they weren’t my feet at all. I was being dragged. We exited the busy street, away from the excited children. I looked around. Notice five colors around you. List down three sounds you hear. Stay grounded in the present. The usual nonsense advice they gave to ward off an oncoming panic attack. It didn’t work for me, never had. What worked for me was staying in my room.
I focused on where we were going. We had entered a locality that wasn’t far from my lodge. Were we going back home?
Is she… helping me?
A few frantic minutes later, it became clear that she was. We were running in the general direction of my room. The bleary call of the distant panic attack subsided. For the first time in many, many months, I surrendered. Surrendered to Aadhira. Hoping that she would honour the unspoken promise of going straight to the room and not try to bolt. Get us out of danger first. That was the priority.
As I silently recuperated, I wondered what had led me to take such extreme measures against her. But the attacks had become unbearable. Despite what the professionals said, I felt sure panic attacks could kill me. Aadhira was no help. She made one dumb decision after another, piling on the hurt of the consequences onto me. As if I was some sort of emotional waste disposal system. I had to curb her, put her on a leash. Bad relationships, casual sex, leading men on. She’d be the end of us if left unsupervised.
When did we get here?
We’d reached the room. Safe, from the people and the things.
Promptly on getting inside, I threw her back and took control. Plopped down on the couch without bothering to change. The sun hadn’t quite set yet, but tiredness lulled me into an early sleep. My dreams were visited by the doctor with the warm eyes.
***
Dr Chetan Mehra
My kindly father had lovingly taken the time to make sure I questioned my career choices every day. Why would you want to be stuck in an office all day talking to people who’re funny in the head? Used to be I could resolutely answer him with conviction. But these days I found myself wallowing in doubt.
I brushed my indecisiveness aside as a patient walked in. A peculiar case. I’d known Aadhira was under the pressure of a dominant personality but I had estimated it would be an overbearing mother or an aunt. But then a few sessions ago, Aadhira had admitted to some half-truths. It had taken a couple of sessions more to coax the complete truth out of her.
Today she looked strikingly different. Her hair-do was different, her mannerisms had changed. Today, it wasn’t Aadhira.
Devika got comfortable on the couch, legs spread apart, arms sprawled over the length of the sofa.
“You wanted to talk. Let’s.”
“Pleasure to finally meet you, Devika.” I smiled, unfazed by her open insolence. I knew her bravado was borrowed. From thin air. “We’ll get started soon enough.”
She had a slight skip in her step as she walked to her house. Shashank had come up to her and offered her a little card. They’d been stealing shy glances at each other in class for quite a while now. Today he’d finally mustered enough courage to tug at her sleeve after school. He’d awkwardly thrust a card in her palm, smiled his toothy smile and disappeared into the crowd. Being thirteen didn’t seem quite as daunting as before.
Her house was just along an alley at the next intersection. As she pranced towards it, see saw a large crowd gathered near her house. An ambulance was parked some distance away. She stopped dead in her tracks. Shashank vanished from her thoughts. Something was wrong. A neighbour saw her and beckoned to someone in the crowd. Her aunt hurried towards her, eyes puffed up and red.
“Sweet darling!” She cried out, grabbing her niece into an aggressive embrace. “Something terrible has happened…”
“I can’t remember much of the days after the accident,” Devika said, leaning forward on the sofa, elbows resting on her knees, fingers locked together. “My aunt and uncle took me in. But all those memories are in bits and pieces.”
I still couldn’t figure out why the dissociation had occurred, or why Devika had inched towards becoming a total recluse. What caused you? What’re you afraid of? I prodded her to remember the days following her parents’ demise.
She recounted a few disjointed episodes. There were huge gaps in her memory, entire days she couldn’t account for.
“I remember feeling displaced, ill-adjusted.”
“What’s the clearest memory you can recall?”
The façade cracked faster than a splintering mirror. Devika shrivelled up in a ball. Her hands found her hair. Rocking back and forth, she began tugging at them.
“It—it started with a light thigh grazing. Uncle Sudhir would always pop in before bed to check on me… her… us. He started sitting by the bed and as he got bolder, lightly patting my legs and thighs before bed. Then one night…” She broke off mid-sentence, her voice thick with emotion.
Now we’re getting somewhere. I comforted her, told her there was no need to go on if she didn’t feel like it. After a while she calmed down enough to go on.
“Aadhira was vulnerable. Too powerless to fight back. After he repeatedly violated us, night after night, I could see she was unable to fend for herself. My aunt was oblivious to the whole thing. I decided it was enough. Everything became clear as crystal. I must protect her, I thought. One day, I summoned up enough courage to clean out my aunt’s purse and get the hell out of that house.” The defiance was slowly creeping back into her voice.
“We found ourselves alone and tattered. I decided to find a cheap lodge where we could crash until the money lasted. The owner is a dear old woman named Charulata Tipnis, who was very eager to help us out after I confided in her the abuse my body had been through. That’s where we’ve been staying since.
“Aunt Charu doted on us… still does. She did everything to accommodate us, worked a few odd jobs along with maintaining the lodge to put us through the rest of schooling. Sometimes I think she is God’s way of apologising for calling my parents to Him before their time.” Devika paused to get her bearing. “Aadhira and I decided not to tell people about each other. Not for the sake of secrecy, but because we didn’t understand much of it ourselves. Over time, we just got used to each other.”
A sudden thought struck me.
“Did your uncle keep telling you the world is a dangerous place?” I asked. “That you must not venture out of the house by yourself without asking him first? Something of the sort?”
Devika looked at me sharply.
“In almost those exact words! How did you know?”
I scribbled a word in my notes. Agoraphobia. I answered her question with a question.
“Why won’t you let Aadhira out of the house, Devika?”
“The room keeps us safe!” she snapped. Then grew silent. In her mind, she must’ve made the same connection I had.
“I… I don’t like thinking about it,” she said at length. “We were doing fine for a long stretch. But then I started getting these intense panic attacks. Too many things can go wrong outdoors. Too much open space… Meanwhile, Aadhira the Idiot seemed to have forgotten what we’d been through. Flirted with one guy after another, even though I kept pushing them away. What if one of them turned out to be like my uncle?”
“What if they didn’t?” I responded softly.
***
Aadhira
“What, Aadhira?” she barked. Vulnerability gone. It was the devilled room. She fell back into old patterns here.
“Can we talk?” I was determined not to cave in to her domineering lash-outs.
No response.
I continued. “I… I had no idea you were trying to protect me… back then. I thought you were just trying to make me miserable.”
More silence.
“Can we go somewhere private to talk? Maybe up the hill near the bus stop?”
“There’s no one here.” Her response was laced with contempt.
“Not here.”
Hesitation, then:
“Let’s go.”
We hiked up the hill in total hush. This was new to both of us. I was especially eager to get to the top to catch the sunset. It had been months since I had seen the sky so full and radiant. We found a secluded spot on the hilltop.
“What did you want to talk about?” Her voice was a little less curt.
Every thought I had so meticulously arranged in sequence seemed to have disappeared. I opened and closed my mouth multiple times like a goldfish, but couldn’t get the words out. She didn’t prod me. For once, Devika was in no hurry to get back to the room.
She broke the silence. “We’ll get through this.”
I smiled feebly. “Yes… yes we will.”
In the end, it boiled down to undeniable facts. We were stuck with each other. Sure they could ‘heal us’ but were we even sick that we needed to heal? We were two halves, making one dichotomous whole.
Dr Mehra had explained to us to process of something he called identity integration. Basically, unceremoniously mashing us together. But we were each our own person. Playing the roles we needed to play. To survive. Of course there we would be disputes, but ask any two roommates and they’ll tell you quarrel is inevitable. Doesn’t mean you want to throw the other person out.
Yes, that’s what we were, two maladjusted roommates. Steadily learning to live together through the fights and compromises.
A silence settled between us, but it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. It was strangely gentle. The sun was a dim orange blob in the sky, making a surely descent. Soon, the place was swathed in shadows as the sun finally disappeared under the horizon.
No matter. It would rise again tomorrow.
© All copyrights belong to the author.
Originally appeared in: Short Story Town, July 2021.