Till Death Do us Apart

Dr Shah picked up the stack of papers lying on his desk. They were a series of photo stated e-mails, sent by his new patient Palak Bakshi. The case was complicated, as he knew. But not unusual. In his 30 years of psychiatry he had come across such cases, but not as emotional as this was. He started reading the first e-mail.

#1 Dated: 31 July 2010

From: palak.bakshi@ymail.com

To: mohit.arora@ymail.com

Mohit

Where are you? It’s been so long...I miss you. You don’t know what is happening with me. I need you Mohit.
He doesn’t love me anymore. He doesn’t talk to me. I think he is having an affair. I don’t know when things began spiralling out my control. And it’s just been two years after our marriage. Is it humanly possible that a person can treat his wife as badly as he does?
To think that ours was a love marriage. We had actually fought with half the world before we got the acceptance from our parents. Please help me. I feel alone.
Palak

#2 Dated: 7 august 2010

From palak.bakshi@ymail.com

To: mohit.arora@ymail.com

Mohit

Is he the same man who held my hand when we were taking our marriage vows? Is he the same man who had night after night watched me go to sleep and risen early only to see me wake up?
Doesn’t look like that.
We live like two strangers. Even at mealtimes, he is his usual silent.
Yesterday I made a chocolate cake for him. It was our 2 year anniversary. He had forgotten. But I still baked the cake. You know what? He looked at the cake and without even apologising or hugging me, just wished me “happy anniversary” and went to his room.
I feel broken. Smashed. Shattered. Help me Mohit. Please...

P.

Dr.Shah quickly went through some of the mails that followed. Each described Palak’s increasing sorrow. He then came to the email marked important by his assistant.

#28 Dated: 16 October 2010

From: palak.bakshi@ymail.com

To: mohit.arora@ymail.com

Mohit

He hit me. On my left cheek. Because I confronted him regarding his behaviour. First he ignored me. Then, he kept looking at me. Then he started arguing with me. Violently. As if he had so much of pent-up feelings. Watching him shouting at me, I started wondering what I had done to make him so angry. At first I was scared, but then when he started abusing me, I fought back. I fought back for my dignity. For our love. For the life we had imagined together.
And then he slapped me. The force pushed me off my balance and I landed on the floor. I looked up, hoping to see remorse in his eyes. But all I saw was cold...hatred. I can’t make myself think about the word. It was very painful. And then, right in front of him, all the memories started playing in front of me eyes.
It was right there...in my mind. Our trip to Goa, his proposing me on the beach, our first date, our first kiss, how he had proposed me for marriage...and then our fight against our parents. And then finally the day we got married. I couldn’t believe he was the same man, who had stood by me in all the ups and downs...
what should I do Mohit? There’s no one I can talk to...Help
P

#29 Dated 31 October 2010

From: palak.bakshi@ymail.com

To: mohit.arora@ymail.com

Mohit

I’ve made my decision. I cannot do this any longer. The mirror won’t let me live. Every day I see the mark of his fingers on my cheek. He does too. But he doesn’t say anything, and neither do I expect him to. I’ve realised that we’ve grown so much apart that it’s impossible to bridge the gap now.
This will be my last mail to you. Even before you open this mail, I’ll be dead.
Yes, Mohit. I don’t want to live any longer. There is no reason for me to live.
I called you for help, but you didn’t reply. I expected you to listen and love me back. You denied. I feel as if I don’t have a heart now...it’s all broken pieces.

Bye Mohit. I have loved you, and always will.

Yours and yours forever

Palak

Mr. Shah kept looking at the last mail for hours or maybe minutes. He had had a suspicion of how this may end, but he was shocked to realise that he was feeling sad for the girl. His profession didn’t allow him to bring his emotions into his work. But he knew what he had to do. He called his assistant and ordered him to call Palak’s husband to his office.

After half an hour, he heard the screech of the tyres. He looked through his window and saw him approaching, with a troubled look on his face. After a second, he heard a knock on his door and the man who he had just seen, stepped inside. He smiled at the doctor and introduced himself.

“Hi Dr., I am Mohit, Palak’s husband”, he said.

“I know”, Dr Shah said.

He looked quizzingly at the doctor who smiled at him and passed him the mails he had just read. After half an hour, he looked up. There was a troubled look on his face...”How is this...?” he started questioning.

“Allow me to explain”, Dr Shah said and continued... “Schizophrenia. It’s a common emotional disorder. The patient detaches himself from reality when it becomes too painful to deal with it. This may be due to pain, longing, suffering, loss of a loved one, or anything which can generate passionate feelings.
It was pain that set the chain of events which led to Palak’s death. She loved you very much, and when she married you, she felt that her fairy tale had ended, or rather started. But somewhere down the line, you two drew apart. Incapable of dealing with this, she detached herself from reality and refused to believe that you were the man she loved. So, for her, her husband and the man she loved some years back were different, but of course you are the same man. Her mind knew that it was a figment of its imagination because she created the mail id mohit.arora@ymail.com.

The look on Mohit’s face went from worried to troubled.

“Yes, we have matched the IP address. She was just talking to the man she loved, about her problems and how her husband didn’t love her anymore.”

Saying this, Mr. Shah sat down, facing Mohit. He sat there for a long time, as if he wanted to ask so many questions but somehow couldn’t phrase them in his mind, and Dr. Shah just kept staring at him.
Then he stood up, and without saying anything, just left. In his right hand were the emails that Palak had written to him.