PROLOGUE

'Sukriti Roy. . .?' I tried to figure out the name written outside the room.

I was at a clinic in South Delhi--- a bubble for the richest in the city , where you find flashy cars , beautiful bungalows, and fake smiles on fancy faces. It is the part of Delhi which gives you on overview of a smart city where a common Indian doesn't even seem to exist.

'You , Dibisha?' suddenly, I heard a guy call out my name.

I turned to face him and wondered how come he knew me. 'Yes. . . you?'

'I'm Manoj. You're wait in room. Madam coming ten minute,' he said, trying his best to converse in English. I wanted to appreciate his efforts.

I looked at him for a few seconds, faked a smile, and thought, now I have to wait for his 'madam' for the next fu*king six hundred seconds or more. But why?

'Okay, thanks. Tell your madam I waiting. I mean, I'm waiting, sorry!' He looked at me with puzzlement on his face, deciphering the difference between "I waiting" and "I'm waiting".

He left.

I chose to wait outside the room rather than sitting alone inside. I sat on the swanky steel bench, browsing through the gallery of pictures on my new android mobile phone. After waiting for almost twenty- five minutes, she finally appeared.

'Dibisha Malhotra? Right?'

'Yes, you can call me Dibi. Anyway, you're---'

'Hello, I'm Sukriti Roy.' She interrupted, broadening her cheeks from ear to ear to strive a smile----a fake one, I supposed. When you aren't left with any reason to smile, you start considering your smile that comes your way as fake.

We shook hands.

She was fine-looking, and looked almost my age.

'I apologise for being so late. I just got stuck somewhere.'

'Yea, you must have,'I murmured to myself, and nodded.

'By the way, why are you waiting here? You could have sat inside. I had told Manoj. . .' she paused.

'It's okay. He did walk up to me.' Though I replied that it was okay, it wasn't really okay at all.

We-stepped inside her office. And I finally realised I had come to a psychiatrist. I had never imagined in my life that I would be visiting one. No one does. But you never know when and where your destiny is going to kick your a*s. I felt like taking my steps back and sprinting out of there at a speed no one could catch me. Ever. But I didn't do that.

The very first thing I noticed as I entered the room was a notice board hung on the wall on which something was written in bold letters. "ONE THOUSAND RUPEES PER HOUR", it read.

It felt as if had to come either to a towering psychiatrist or a cheap whor*.

So, I would have to recompense for those twenty-five minute also? I thought. I wanted to ask her. But anyway, she offered me to sit.

"Thanks,' I said as I took my chair, putting my bag on the table. There were some certificates, diaries, files, and a novel by a famous Indian author on the table.

'So, you're Arushi's friend?' she asked, and reclined on her chair.

'Yes, she is our neighbour and my childhood friend too. I have come here only because she forced me to meet you.' I took a pause and continued, 'Otherwise, I'm completely fine. I am not mentally ill, nor did I attempt suicide. I haven't had any kind of suicidal thoughts. My behaviour isn't violent . . .' I spoke incessantly, and suddenly noticed her colourless face. I realised she was listening to me very carefully. Or was she too shocked to react? I stopped giving explanations as to why I had walked up a psychiatrist l, otherwise I was going to explain some more. I wanted to tell her that I was a topper in my board exams, and had been a student of a renowned college of DU. I also wanted to tell her that she looked nice but not as gorgeous as I was. But her nonchalant gaze stopped me there.

For the next few seconds, we both kept silent. I guessed she was waiting for me to talk some more. But I didn't.

'Okay, so , Arushi is your neighbour,' she said as she moved forward, stared down at the table, quivering her head thoughtfully, and continued, 'Well, in my experience, most of the people come here when someone suggests them or forces them to come.' She emphasized on the word "forces".

Whatever, I shouldn't prolong the discussion unnecessarily and sit for more than an hour, or one thousand bucks, I thought. I decided to come to the point.

'Actually , Sukriti, I'm a little disturbed these days. Arushi suggested that I meet you. She thinks you can help me out.' This time I used "suggest" instead of "force".

'Wait, sorry to interrupt, but wait a second please', she said, playing with the pen in her hand. It must be a trick to increase the time of the conversation, of course, for money, I thought. After a pause she continued, 'First, feel relaxed and be comfortable. Would you like to have something? Tea, coffee, or cold drink?'

I would feel relaxed as soon as I sprint out of here and reach my place, I thought, while my did its calculations. That coffee might prove to be a costly one.

'No, thanks. I haven't come here to have a cup of coffee with you,' I said. I rebuffed her offer.

She didn't counter back but just gazed at me, maintaining a phony smile on her face. And suddenly, I realised that I was replaying curtly without any reason.

Before I ended up there, I had faced some ups and downs and bad phases in life . I told her that I was a bit disturbed these days.

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