The Disturbed

It didn’t take her long to find the Mulberry Lane. She drove into the lane and on the left side fourth house belonged to the renowned Psychologist Dr. Haroon Shah Afridi.

Dr. Afridi’s office was immaculately decorated. There was nothing like a typical doctor’s clinic. She made herself comfortable on the leather armchair. She was busy observing the surroundings and décor when the doctor entered the room. 6 feet 2 inches tall, fair complexion, hazel eyes, light brown hair; he was a true blue Afridi.

“So Ms Arifa Arshad just relax as we would start a conversation; feel free to talk about anything that is on your mind. I might ask you questions when required. And remember to be honest you can trust me with the confidential matters. What we discuss here doesn’t go out of these four walls.”

“Do you fly doc?” She cut in, pointing to his giant picture on the wall.

“No, I don’t. My brother is a GD pilot. He took my photo in front of the F-16 on the Sargodha Air Base.” His lips made a fine curve when he smiled.

“You look so gorgeous in the G-suit.” She said.

Her seductive tone took him by complete surprise. He changed the topic skillfully and said, “Shall we begin?”

“I am here to talk about my yet another break up but I don’t know where to start from.”

“You can write it down if you like?”

“Written words are dead letters… I am sick of writing; I want to speak. It feels good when your voice travels to someone’s attentive ears. She paused for a while and then said, “I feel suffocation.”

“You mean here in this room or…”

“Yes, in this room. It is a beautiful day, why don’t you pull the curtains apart?”

The doctor drew the curtains apart. It had started raining outside; a sheer rarity in this city. It was a perfect afternoon. She looked out of the window and then said, “I love cedar trees. They are evergreen; I wish relationships were like that too, evergreen that could stand the test of time and turmoil.” She sighed.

“What had gone wrong between you and him?”

“Nothing… it all ended in silence. He thought I was nuts… a liar. That is all.”

“Why don’t you start from the beginning; where did you meet him?”

“It was one such rainy day, when we met for the first time. I had known him since sometime… you know through the net and then telephone.

It was a fantastic rendezvous. I was glad things were moving on the right track. I met him three, four times. Then one day he asked me a strange question. He asked me what does my brother-in-law do. I smiled faintly and said I don’t know about it. I said I never liked him so his life doesn’t interest me at all. If my sister is happy so am I. Beyond this I don’t care much. But he couldn’t believe me. He said you talk so much about your sister. You love her to bits but you don’t know what your brother-in-law does. He made such an issue of that. He thought I was not being fair to him, I was lying about something but the truth is I didn’t know.”

“Why doesn’t your brother-in-law’s life interest you?”

“Because I don’t like him, for many reasons… he hurts my sister.”

“Does he hit her?”

“No, but causes emotional pain and suffering. They fight and curse each other, at one time her marriage was on the rocks. One night she left home and that retard never went to bring her back. She went back herself eventually…”

“Don’t you think such issues come up in every marriage and a person should deal with it maturity? Harboring hatred never helps.”

“Should I open up the Pandora box of issues to convince you why I dislike him? We have drifted away from the real issue here. We were talking about me.” She said sternly.

The silence fell on the room. She was looking outside the window. The doctor composed a new question in his mind and asked her, “Did she have a love marriage?”

She took a deep breath and said, “An arranged marriage that took place with mutual liking.”

“Did you enjoy her wedding?”

“Yes, I did thousand of miles away from her.”

“Please elaborate?”

“She got married in America and none of us could make it. That was never an issue for me though.”

“That is interesting! So how is your relationship with your sister?”

“Very cordial, very warm. I love her too much. You can mould our relationship into anything. She could be like a mother to me at one time the next moment a close friend; an advisor, or a seeker of advice.”

“How often do you talk to her?”

“Three times a week, or whenever I like, I call her up.”

“Can I have her contact number? Email Id, phone number anything? I think it would be helpful if I talk to her?”

“Don’t bother her; she would get worried for me.”

“I won’t upset her, would ask her general questions that is all?”

“Fine note down her email address.”

“Does she work?”

“Yes, she is an employee of Iowa State University.”


The short December afternoon soon turned into an evening and the counseling session came to an end. She got her next appointment and left. The meeting couldn’t yield anything for Dr. Afridi. It was a pretty challenging case and he knew the patient was hiding something. Something that was the reason of her disturbed life.

That same night the doctor sent a mail to Arifa’s sister. In the morning he got the reply, instead of helping him out the mail had complicated things. The tone and the content of the mail seemed so similar. Dr. Afridi was an expert and he got it at once that something was so wrong somewhere. He thought to Google Saima, Arifa’s sister. He clicked on the two, three appropriate links and the more he read the more things started to fall in place.

Arifa reached in time for the next appointment. She was looking quite appealing in the red dress. She sat down on the armchair in front of the doctor. He smiled and asked her, “How have you been?”

“Much better…” She said and took out a pack of cigarette from her handbag.

“Do you mind if I smoke?”

“It is ok, go ahead.”

She lit the cigarette with a lighter. The lighter produced a sweet tune. She looked at the doctor from the corner of her eye and said Zarak gifted this lighter. All I have of him is this lighter and a bunch of memories. She puffed elegantly.

“So did you mail my sister?” She asked.

“Yes, I did. That was pretty helpful.”

“Hmm, so yeah I am trying to grow out of Zarak’s love. But he has spoiled me too much with his beautiful words and adorable mannerism. I often wish to hear him. I had really loved him.”

“You are an educated and intelligent lady. You’ll find someone.”

“You think I am pretty?”

“Yes.”

“Praise me… I like to hear good things about myself.” She said unflinchingly.

“Your eyes are attractive…”

“That is what he said.” She cut in and then continued. “He called them bedroom eyes. Do you know what does that mean?”

“What?”

“It means seductive eyes.”

“I don’t know but your eyes are restless. They don’t concentrate.”

“Where do you want me to concentrate?”

“Look into my eyes and accept the reality.”

“What? That you are falling for me?” She said and laughed out loud.

The doctor blushed. He smiled with his curvy lips. Arifa looked at him and thought his lips were so kissable.

“I am talking about the reality that your sister is no more.” He said with all his seriousness.

“And who put this insane thought in your mind?”

“I know it has been on the net. I read the obituary and the local news as well. It often happens the loved one can’t accept the loss and…”

“Do you think I am a liar?”

“Not at all… it’s as someone plays chess with himself. He is his own opponent. So you are only talking with her memories. Your mind generates the old convos and you think you have just talked to her.

“Arifa, did your sister ever feel suicidal?”

“Yes, many times… but we would talk and things would be fine. You know almost 90% people suffer from such thoughts at some point in life.”

“What had happened on 25th February 2005?”

She paused… looked out of the window… lit another cigarette and said in a very composed tone, “I received a mail from her on 25th; she said that she was sick of her life and was going to commit suicide. You know her hubby was fond of shooting and had a collection of guns but he would keep it under lock and key. But Saima somehow got hold of it and shot herself. When the neighbors heard the bang they rushed to her home. She was provided with an immediate treatment and she survived.”

“I am sorry Arifa but she never survived. She had died while on her way to hospital. You need to accept this reality… ok give me her cell number I’ll talk to her right now.”

“She won’t talk to you. I know… she won’t…” She said indignantly.

“Arifa, please calm down and listen… I have a psychiatrist friend I can refer you to him or I’ll call him here if you are not comfortable visiting him.”

She was visibly disturbed; with a wrinkled forehead she nodded. She got the next appointment. It was almost an evening when she left the clinic. She got in the car and punched in the number on her cell phone.

“Yeah everything is fine. I was missing you so thought to give you a call.”

“Don’t worry I am not crazy to visit him again… I just wanted to talk to someone I am better now.”

“I am on the road… getting back home.”

“Yeah…nothing special here.”

“I know you are at work… I’ll call you some other time.”

“Bye.”

She ended her monologue and switch off the cell phone. The phone was already off… there was no one on the line.