The Therapist

As a psychiatrist, my practice often involved dealing with all kinds of people. Most are forgotten into oblivion, some interesting maniacs are remembered for some time, but a very few cases are such which are forever etched into memory. One such was the case of Shyam. I will never, ever forget it. It was not the peculiarity of the case which had etched it in my memory, but for the events that followed it.

I still remember the day, 8th January, Monday. I was about to shut the clinic. In fact, I had even sent my secretary home. Then, he came. He was an innocent looking man, the kind which could not even hurt a fly. With demure expressions and teary eyes, he entered my cabin and pleaded, “Doctor! Please help me!” I was taken in with pity on this poor tortured soul. I asked him to tell me what was happening to him.
“Doctor, I love a girl, but she hates me, and I cannot keep her out of my mind! Please help me!” he pleaded again. Now this was familiar territory for me. I had counseled hundreds of cases like him before.
I asked him to relate his full story to me without interruption. He told me how he had seen the girl, Sunaina, two months ago and had fallen instantly in love with her. Next day, he had proposed to her and upon being rejected, he could not digest the shock. He had since lost all interest in life. The plot was too similar to many young boys and girls I had counseled. A long practice often tends to desensitize doctors. What was a heart-rending story for this man was ordinary daily routine to me.

Luckily, to my rescue, came my friend, Dr. Shekhar’s phone. He too was a renowned psychiatrist.
“Hello Shekhar! How are you?” I asked him.
Shekhar sounded anxious and his voice seemed to be trembling, “I have called you to inform you about an attack on me by a psychopath. I have been shot at by a stranger, without any apparent cause. You take care!”
I was shocked. Poor Shekhar was the most decent fellow I had ever met. Why would anyone shoot him?
“But why would anyone shoot you?” I was still not able to digest the fact that someone like Shekhar can be attacked.
“I have no idea. You take care of yourselves.”
“Hey Shekhar, I am having an interesting case. Its about a guy called Shyam…”I talked about the case for some time to take his mind off the shock. But his voice grew worse.
“Hey, is his name Shyam?” he asked fearfully.
“Yes. Why?”
“Is he talking about a girl called sunaina whom he loved and who rejected his proposal to marry him?”
I replied in affirmative. Now, Shekhar’s voice changed totally to a fearful, trembling voice of a person who has seen death from close quarters. “Save yourselves! He is the psychopath who attacked me! The Sunaina he is referring to is dead since two months. He killed her when she refused his proposal to marry him. The police recovered her rotting body from his bedroom. Sunaina was married to some psychiatrist, so this guy is on a killing spree to kill all psychiatrists he meets. Save yourselves before its too late!”

I was stunned. Dazed. Shekhar’s words brought back several vivid images. Me marrying a girl secretly against her parents’ wishes, changing her name from Sunaina to Sunita, she complaining two months ago of a psychopath who was harassing her, she disappearing the next day… this blasted psychopath had killed my beloved sunaina! I looked at him with all the anger I had and was about to hit him when I heard a sound. Everything went into slow motion. Me raising my fist, Shyam raising his gun, his finger pressing on the trigger, my punch about to land on his face and the trigger pressed by his finger. I never got to hit him. Before that, I was shot through my heart, and my eyes closed. Forever.

Sitting in heaven, I must say, I will never be able to forget Shyam.