I stare at the framed piece of modern art with unseeing eyes. My heart is heavy inside me. It is rightly said, the road to hell is paved with good intentions… Mine is too. The road to my personal purgatory. After three years, I realize that. But it is too late.

You may not believe that someone like me did something like this. My mother, my in laws and my own husband do not understand me… so why should I expect you to?

“Lathika, you are an educated young woman. How could you be so irrational?” says Dr. Padmanabhan. I look at him helplessly… and a trifle irritated.

 “Education! Does it prepare a person for the harsh realities of life? Does the glossy rectangular piece of paper certifying me as a computer engineer explain to me why things happen the way they do? Education is needed to find a husband… for getting a job, but when it comes to mysteries of life, bloody education can do nothing and it can scare the shit out of you!” I burst out bitterly.

My psychiatrist looks unfazed by my outburst.

“ Okay. I agree with you. What you learn in a classroom is not going to be of much use in real life situations. But educated people are expected to think rationally before acting on whims and fancies… See… the difference between man and animal is that man can weigh the pros and cons of his action even before he commits it.”

“Oh! I do that… I think carefully before I do something… In fact, I think and think and think…” I lapse into an uncomfortable silence as, even to my own ears, I sound paranoid. I wonder what my husband must be doing outside in the waiting room of the hospital. Praying that no acquaintance meets him of course…  How would he explain his presence in a mental hospital? That he is waiting for an appointment? Or he will have to tell them that his wife is inside, getting treatment…

“ Tell me something, Lathika. I am also from a middleclass family that is staunchly religious. I am a doctor. And I believe in God. I pray… I do my sandhyavandanam every day. I go to the temple regularly… But I also live my life. I do my work. I socialize. One cannot isolate himself from the rest of the world. Only a true ascetic can do it. Why should someone in the prime of her life like you, dissociate herself from life and take shelter in religious pursuits and  such a foolish thing like you have?”

I bite my lip. How can I answer him? How can I reveal the demons that have been haunting me… I can’t blame anyone for my affliction… My family is right. I am insane.

“ Lathika, my girl, look at me. You have my absolute confidence. Tell me what troubles you. Why are you  behaving like this. Why have you withdrawn into a shell? Have you undergone any traumatic experience you can not share with your family?”

 I dart a fleeting glance at him. The man has more skill than I credited him with initially. It dawns on me that I am facing a cul de sac and the only way to escape is with his help. My mind weighs the pros and cons of  my confessions… though it is difficult to think rationally, when one is accused of being  deranged… I try to be rational… Yes, my mind tells me. There is no other escape route. Take this man’s hand and come out of the maze in which you are trapped… Yet, my heart warns me that I may jeopardize my entire existence by doing so. After all, it is my husband who has brought me here and Dr. Padmanabhan owes him an answer…a solution…

Suddenly, my brain feels exhausted. The light at the end of the tunnel seems to have exhausted my stamina for struggling in the darkness… I decide to place my cards on the table.

 “Can I get up?” I ask. “ I feel nervous lying down here like this.”

“Sure, sure… make yourself comfortable,” the doctor says and I get up and walk around the office. I walk towards the framed picture of muted blues, greens and mauves and stare at it. The shades soothe my mind a little.  ‘Where should I start?’ I wonder. At the beginning, I decide…at the very beginning. I square my shoulders get ready to open my can of worms.

Still facing the wall and the picture, I start… “ It all started three years ago. Darshan was seven years old…”

“ Your son who is in a residential school?” he asks. I nod.

“ Darshan was a very good baby. He obeyed me instantly. He loved being with me. He watched all the religious serials while other kids watched cartoons. I used to copy game CDs for him. He never showed any interest in them. I bought him story books, he preferred  my childhood collection of Amar Chithra Kathas.  He loved listening to the tales from Mahabharat and Ramayan from his grandparents. He joined the Bhajan classes while his friends joined skating and karate classes. Initially, it did not worry me. In fact, I was happy that he had emotional anchor while I was at work…that he was different from the snobbish brats my friends seemed to have.  Then I started noticing things… about him…”  I turned around and found the doctor listening to me attentively.

“Darshan was becoming overly pious. He bathed in the morning and evening and did puja with his grandfather. He studied well. There seemed to be a glow emanating from him. Then it started. He started foretelling. Initially I did not pay  any attention to it. It was my mother who brought it to my notice. That day we were in my mother’s house and planned to go to a temple in the evening. Darshan told me, “Amma… we won’t go to the temple today, our car will break down.” We had barely covered two kilometers when the tyre of our car burst and we had to return home. My mother was astounded by this and started probing me about this. I just chided her.

His uncanny knack for predicting things became a game between us. I, by now, believed that my six year old son could foresee future and predict things that seemed to happen. But I was scared for his safety. I did not want him to be ridiculed as a charlatan or deified as a prodigy or a godman. I told him to keep these little things a secret between us. He, the obedient son that he is, did so.”

I turn again and look at the doctor. Is a there a tinge of skepticism in his eyes?

“You don’t believe me… do you? Once he told me, “ Amma, can we go to Kunja thatha’s house? It is a long time since we went there.”

“Kunja thatha is my father’s cousin. I was rather close to him. I was his pet. Well… we went there and when Darshan heard him talk to me about his illness, he went to the old man and said, ‘Don’t worry, Thatha…all your pains will go away.’ The next day, we heard of his passing away… peacefully in his sleep. When the news came, I looked at my son who was drawing, lying on the floor. For a second he lifted his head and looked at me and then continued drawing…”

“ Things like this happened… from delayed buses to my misconception… he seemed to know everything beforehand. At my workplace I googled for information on ESP but nothing could answer my doubts. I was becoming scared for my child’s safety. And then one day, he dropped a bombshell on me. It was a Sunday and he was doing his homework. He had to make a family tree and I was helping him with it. When I told him my father’s name, he wanted to know where he was. I told him my father had gone to be with God when I was in my twelfth standard…  He was quiet for a minute. The he told me, “ When I am  ten years old, my papa will also go to see God… then will he meet Thatha?” My world came crashing around me! I was frantic. Days and nights became hellish. I could not share this with anyone. I was frightened for his safety. I was terrified about my fate. Every moment of my life, I spent dreading my son’s words. Suddenly, Darshan became a symbol of Death to me. Whenever I looked at him, I felt frightened for my husband’s life. Unable to bear the stress, I planned to send him to a residential school…”

I look at the doctor, hoping at least he would understand me. My family had been totally against me. They had thought I was demented. They had tried to talk me out of it. My in laws had even asked me if it was anything they had done. They promised not to spoil him…not to interfere with our way of bringing him up… offered even to shift to another house. I refused… It was going to be my decision this time and I convinced them of my dreams of a holistic education for my son and an overall development of his personality… they had to concede defeat.

The doctor looks a picture of understanding and this gives me the impetus to continue.

 “ My heart broke into a thousand pieces as I took him to the school. My husband refused to come with me. He was angry with me and refused even to talk to me. I left my little son in the care of the Correspondent Swamiji. Before I left, I knelt down to hug him one last time and he whispered, “ Amma, if I promise not say things anymore, will you take me back?” Guilt welled up in my eyes in the form of tears but my selfishness froze them there. “We’ll see,” I said, before turning away…”

I now start choking with the tears that I have been held trapped inside my stony heart for three horrendous years. I feel the doctor’s hand on my shoulder and that does it. I burst out crying… I am racked by huge waves of sadness, guilt and reproach that has been bottled up inside me for three years…The doctor holds out a wad of tissues to me.

“Tell me Lathika,  how old is your son now?” 

“He turned eleven two months back.”  I turn and look at him. “Don’t you realize what I have done? I have punished my young son because of my madness and superstitious behaviour. For the last three years I have been going from temple to temple, praying for my husband’s life … I have observed so many vratas and met so many sadhus and sanyasis  that my family think I am mad. Till two months back…when Darshan became eleven. Then I realized what a sinner I was… I wanted to atone for my sin.

I went to my son’s school. I went and sought his forgiveness but the damage is done. My son does not want to come back to me… I am going berserk with guilt and shame…” I pant… clutching at my heart ...which seem to be breaking into pieces and the shards, piercing my mind…

“Is that why you tried to commit suicide?” asks the doctor. I look at him defeated.

“What other way out  is there for me. My family think I am mad… my son will not forgive me… What else can I do?”

I look at my would be saviour eyes pleading for a way out of my purgatory!