"HAUNTED MAN"
BY
FIZA JAMSHAID & MUHAMMAD YOUNAS RAZA
“You are not giving me much to work with
here”. I take a deep drag of my cigarette slowly and exhale the smoke after a
few seconds. I look at her through the smoke as she fiddles with notepad and
pen in her hand, waiting patiently for me to give her something, anything that
she can grab on to. “Doctor, do you ever wonder, if it’s worth it, whatever we
do?” I ask her to gauge her reaction. In an instant, she replies “Call me Ayla, please.
Of course, I always do and everything is
worth it in the end”. I smile to myself, typical psychiatric strategy, relate
to your patient till they open their mouth and pour it all out. Little does she
know that I have been my own psychiatrist all my life. I know all the strategies;
I’ve even studied psychology. I sit patiently, inhaling the smoke, waiting to
see how long does it take for her to start speaking just to fill the void of
silence in the whole room which attempts weakly to make a lively appearance, a
wall covered full of books, small pots of flowers in corners, bright maroon
walls, as if these things could drown out the horrors that were narrated in
this room.
“So, we have an hour left” there it is, an
attempt to fill the silence. I plan on remaining silent. I’m not here for
therapy. I am my own therapist; I could care less about how much time is left.
“Why are you here Desmond”. Now that is an interesting question, why am I here
if not therapy. “Well, Doctor Ayla, now that you have asked the right question,
I just might give you something”. I put out the cigarette in the little ashtray
beside my chair. Smokers are a regular here I notice.
It began 7 years back. I had a good life
up till the point of 11th grade. I had it all and then I had none. I
had a complete happy family; my father’s business was at its peak and I had
nothing to worry about. How naive of me to think that life will be easy. I was
a middle child, not so bright in studies but I was creative, a thinker. I
used to think a lot and that is what made me I am today. I fell in love for the
first time in my life in 11th grade. Her name was Anna. She was the
prettiest girl I had ever seen. My looks have always been a hit with the ladies
along with my caring and thoughtful personality.
Almost every girl that I have dated saw
perfection in me but Anna was the one who seemed perfect to me. I got her to
know me and soon enough we were in love. I had found my heaven on earth. I had
never felt this feeling and I gave my all. Few beautiful months went by and she
started to fall sick. It grew rapidly. I wonder how I did not see it at that
time. Soon, she started to take days off from school. Nothing felt good on
those days, the sun would be shining bright but for me, it was equal to a rainy
day in December. She was my sunshine and the one who brought flavor to my
mouth because without her presence, not even my favorite food tasted the same.
After a few weeks, she told me that she
was diagnosed with cancer. A tumor in her head was growing so fast that
the doctors could do nothing. What a day it was, I have never cried so much in
my whole life. Not even when I saw my grandmother’s burnt body in front of me
but that day, I cried till I could no more. She wanted to leave but I loved
her, I loved her not how she was. I wanted her in sickness and in health but
life didn’t give me much time to be with her in her sickness.
The
doctors tried everything, from chemotherapy to every kind of drug but they
weren’t successful. She lost her hair and started to wear a cap. I used to take
her cap off and kiss her head, something she never understood. Neither did I
at that time but I guess it was an attempt to show my love for her that it did
not depend on her looks, it was unconditional. Lord knows it was. 3 months went
by like this and one morning when I was getting dressed in her favorite black
shirt that she loved on me. I received the call that would change me forever. I
was told that she breathed her last that very morning and that she was gone. I
did not cry. I was gone too. She took me with her and all I could feel was
numbness.
I fell into depression and this was only
the beginning of the dark path that I was going to take. I distanced myself
from my family. They noticed and tried to talk to me but I never gave them
anything. I spent my days in my room, the whole 12th grade. I did
not go to school anymore. My father knew the board members. Therefore, it
wasn’t a problem for me to study at home and appear for exams only. I became
addicted to weed. I used to lock my room at night and get high.
One of these nights when I was high, I
walked to my bathroom. I pulled out a razor from the shaving kit that I had
bought but never used anymore. I pressed it on my left forearm till little
beads of blood began to form. It felt good, the burning sensation and pain felt
better than being numb. I pressed it in more and soon I was making long strokes
along my forearm with the blade. Blood dripped slowly at first on the floor and
then a little faster. I lay there smiling. At least I get to die on my own
terms. It wasn’t enough to kill me but the blood loss made me unconscious.
I woke up in a hospital with my parents
around me. My mother was crying and my father looked worried. They had found
me. I realized that I had messed up, I was messed up. It was decided that I
should be put in rehab. I couldn’t agree more. I didn’t trust myself around my
own self anymore. I spent 3 months in rehab and gave up weed and self-harming
but the sadness, that empty feeling in my chest still remained. I tried to fill
that emptiness with many meaningless relationships, most of them became toxic
and abusive. I got used to being abused just for the sake of some love and care
that I got every now and then. It was useless. I was a hopeless case and I gave
up on being complete again.
It was about time for me to go to college
and my father’s business began to fall slowly too. Life wasn’t the same
anymore. My parents began to drift apart and they constantly fought. I was
constantly sad and depressed. I promised myself that I would never love again
and that marriage was just another useless thing created by humans and
religions. One can spend a whole life without getting married. That is what I
started to believe in. Every now and then I used to have suicidal thoughts but
I pulled myself out of it every single time. I knew I had to carry on.
A year into college and I was known as the
sad and depressed guy. That guy who is always busy with his own mind. I did
extraordinarily good in my studies and that gained me some reputation as well.
During this second year at college, I met another girl. Despite all my promises
to myself, I began to fall for her. She saw past through all the walls that I
had built around myself. She understood me more than I could understand myself.
She was always there for me. I always
searched for Anna in every girl that I dated and every time I was disappointed.
I was haunted by her; I could never be at peace because there was no one like
her. Eleanor was the one in whom I could see Anna. I was in love once again but
I could not understand whether I loved her for who she was or for who I thought
she was. I knew that she loved me for who I was.
Two more years went by and I was
completely in love with Eleanor. It was the same for her, maybe even more but I
was afraid to commit. My parents had separated during my last year at college.
I stayed with my mother. It was a difficult time but by this point, nothing
moved me anymore. I could deal with anything without being affected at all.
Eleanor stood by me during all these years.
She was always there for me and I began to
love her even more but still not for who she was. I always thought this is what
Anna would do. I knew we were almost done with college and Eleanor wanted me to
propose but I looked back at my life and it made me wonder what kind of husband
would I be. Surely, I won’t be like my father who messed up everything but I will be able to do right by her. Commitment scared me to my bones. The fear of
losing everything once again, the fear of becoming my father, the fear of not being
able to do right by the ones I cared about.
They say love is the strongest emotion one
can feel but for me fear won. I could not commit to her in the end and I let
her go. I cheated on her to make her hate me and she did. She left me. I guess
I did deserve it for not letting my past go. I destroyed my happiness from my
own hands. It has been a year and I wonder how things would have turned out had
I not been haunted by my past.
I
light up another cigarette. I look at Doctor Ayla “I am haunted, I know that. I
have accepted it and I don’t need any help with it”. The hour is almost up. “You
asked me why I’m here Doctor and I asked you Is it worth it”. I take deeper
drags of my cigarette to push back the clot forming in my throat. “Yes,” she
replies softly, still clutching the pen and notepad in her hand on which she
never wrote down anything. “I’m here because I’m alone. I don’t need your help,
you’re my entertainment of sorts” I deliberately use the term entertainment to
see her reaction but she remains stoic. Now she is the one being silent. “So,
tell me doctor, was it worth it to be my entertainment for an hour”. She smiles
softly at me and almost whispers “It will always be”.
1 Comments
Well-written. The way you explain everything is just mind-blowing ❤️
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