Verse Three

Dr. Ranjavati Sinha, MS, Anaesthesiology, sat quietly beside the swimming pool of Sanjay Mehta's farmhouse. Her feet touched the cold water.
She inhaled deeply.
The frills of her saree had drenched.
Her soft fingers caressed the waves.

She heard footsteps and looked in the direction.

Sanjay walked down the aisle, and settled beside her with a smile.

She smirked.
" Sanjay Mehta.
The superstar, known to be highly righteous in real life.

You straightway decided to bring an unconscious me to your farmhouse!
Without even caring to inform the hosts. Huh? "

" Madam, you were already in sense by the end of the journey. You could have stopped me, couldn't you? "
Sanjay smirked in return.

" Is it? Do you even know how it feels when you recover from a spell as such?
Oh, how would you know. You are a saint. Plus I don't think you underwent operations under complete unconsciousness either, ever. " , she rolled her eyes.

Sanjay's heart skipped beats. How could someone be so beautiful? Such perfect features. Remaining in showbiz for ten years now, he was yet to come across such a sculpted face.

" No. I have no such worthwhile experiences. Anyways, I want to confess something.
I've never seen someone as beautiful as you. " , he hardly failed in complimenting women.

Though many of his costars mistook his straightforward praises to be something else on his part, he didn't stop doing that ever.

She looked at him and laughed.

" I know very well, that's the reason you brought me to your secluded farmhouse. " , she continued giggling and paddling her feet in the pool.

" Ohh... Now, I cannot convince you otherwise if you have already concluded. But my purpose is something very different. " , he smiled.

" Haha...

There had been one occasion...last summer.. when I had dosed off at a pub. And someone decided to force upon me.

By god's grace the aura did fade away earlier than expected. And I was conscious enough to empty a whole can of chilli powder mist I carry along, into his eyes. Funny right?

Since then I never drug myself in public places. At most I get into the washroom if the urge strikes. Stay in there till its over.

I remember quite much, I had got into one...today as well...

Next, I found myself in a huge limo beside a superstar. " , she concluded with a smirk.

Sanjay shook his head.
" Let's stop this drug abuse discussion for a while.

Tell me.

Are you single?
And if so, how come even? "

She rolled her eyes again.
" Bleh...

You tell me, you are a superstar. With so much love oozing into your life from every nook and cranny. Why aren't you married yet? "

" Because... I don't believe in the institution of marriage. " , he smiled.

" Why? Did you parents have a failed marriage? " , she looked concerned.

" No.

My parents were the happiest couple on earth till Dad expired last year.

Didn't you ever read the eternal love story of Sudhansu Mehta and Ragini Mehta in newspapers or webs? "
Sanjay sounded extremely surprised.

Ranjavati shrugged.
" Sorry. I am hardly interested in stuffs that don't concern me...or my work.

Continuing a conversation with me is difficult.

But then...with such perfect marital examples, why don't you believe in marriage? "

Sanjay scratched his forehead.
He didn't like the fact that most of the conversations these days, ended up in his relationship or marital status. While he was not in any position to discuss them at all.

" Just like that.
Everything doesn't necessarily have an explanation. " , he tried to end it.

She carefully checked on him for a long time. Then her lips curved into another smirk.
" I know... I know..

Eligible bachelors are either cheaters, or indifferent. There's no in between. "

He raised his brows.
" You seem to have an awful experience with eligible bachelors. But madam, that's not always so. "

" Okay fine. Then give me one good reason as to why you are not married, or even committed, or are you? "

Sanjay smiled, and nodded a no.

" Good, so at thirty plus, why the fuck you ain't committed or married to someone, with so much love in life. Give me just one solid reason. "

Sanjay chose silence. He could have really said that his busy schedule and other commitments to his work, didn't really allow him to take up emotional responsibilities of another person as a whole... following ties of marriage, but somehow he was afraid of a brutal comeback from this awkward woman.

" Speechless much? " , she grinned.

" Fine. You turned me speechless. What about you? May I know your side of the story, Dr..... "

" I just realised you don't even know my name..
It's Ranjavati Sinha. "

" Dayum...
You are an outcast in every possible way. Didn't get to hear such a name ever, didn't see such a face, and most importantly, didn't see a doctor who snorts drugs. "

Ranjavati sat staring at the sky. His words did no impact to her expressionless face.

" By the way, what purpose of bringing me in here were you talking of? "

" Nothing much.

I myself am highly involved in anti drug campaigns and activities.

You won't know, since you are interested in nothing except for yourself and drugs.

So, I just wished to gather, what made a doctor take up ways of self harm.

Is it just for the sake of some experimental fun, or does it root back to something more deeply imprinted?

And maybe, I could help... "

" Ohhh......

Moral policing and all...
Come on...

By the way, I know basic things about you. Cause you are Rukmi's family friend.
She's not a very close friend, but definitely a chatterbox. A socialite.
" , Ranjavati nodded sideways, smiling.

" You really think you can help me?

I'm an outcast. You're right.
And outcasts are born that way. They cannot be helped. Nor do they desire to be.

Now, take me through your farmhouse. I wanna see it. "

She got up.

Sanjay did too.
One thing was for sure.
She was unusual.

And Mr Mehta, the  quite usual and very righteous superstar, did surprisingly like the eventful company of this treat to the eyes, music to the ears, and food for the brains kind of woman, bearing all kinds of vices on earth.

" Pass me a cigarette. " , she said, stretching her legs.

" I don't smoke, madam. " , he grinned.

She stared at him for sometime.
" Why don't you go and drown in that pool instead? "

Verse Four

" My farmhouse consists of an in-house with a bedroom and a dining hall, a lounge plus a gym to its right, and a music room to its left.

In the middle... is this pool and beside that is a badminton court.

That's all.

Oh, and the garage is to the southeast. " , Sanjay pressed his lips.

Ranjavati reflected for sometime.

" The music room maybe? "

Ranjavati placed herself before the drums in the huge area stuffed with a wide range of instruments.

Sanjay leaned against one of the walls.

" You a drummer? " , he asked.

" No bro...

But once upon a time I had bought a pair of drums on someone's advice.

Like, when you are frustrated much, beat the drum till it breaks. "

She began playing, quite in rhythm.

" Are you planning to break mine? " , he smiled.

" I might be a self destructor. Not a lunatic.
You're safe. " , she continued playing.

Sanjay let out a laugh.

" You're amazing.
But your mom might not be very proud to know, you regularly abuse drugs. "

" My mom?

Hah!!! She doesn't care. " , her restlessness suddenly portrayed through the drum beats that paced up.

Sanjay straightened.

" Do you stay alone? " , he asked carefully.

" No.
My maid stays with me.
My toys stay with me.
A garden of flowers stay with me.
A parrot stays in the garden. " , she smiled.

" And....your parents? " , he walked closer.

She silently played the drums for a long time after this. Mostly unable to decide, if she was really supposed to discuss personal stuffs with an almost stranger.

" Ranjavati, I cannot force you to share things of your life. But, you know how unusual it is for a doctor to bear habits like you do. It's natural for an inquisitive self like me to....

However, if it's normal of anesthetists to try these as frequently as you do..then I think I should change my outlook towards... "

"Don't lose faith on medical professionals as a whole.
There are millions of anaesthetists who don't need illusory pleasures.
There are thousands who occasionally snort or drink to get rid of work stress. There are only a few like me who find illusions better than reality. " , she got down the drumming station.

" Lastly...my life? Do you really think it's worthwhile? Some tragic story you'll like to delve into? Naaah. I'm supersensitive. That's all the trouble.
Yet, if you wanna hear, why won't I share? No one asks me what I need. No one asks me how I feel. Am I a fool to not speak to the one who's willing to spend time for me? 

But yeah, don't expect me to take your advice following that. Because, you are not even my acquaintant. We belong to different zones. "

Sanjay silently followed her as she walked out of the room.

Verse five

" When I was a kid, I realised my parents had a loveless marriage. They hated each other like there's no end to it.
I wished to have a sibling who could share my insecurities. But when I began understanding things, I wondered, how even could they unite to produce me, once upon a time.

I was always a studious kid. I withdrew myself to the extent that I could not communicate with anyone much. I stammered, I was afraid of little things, I bed wetted even when I was in fifth standard.
But my parents, either busy with job, or in their tussles, hardly cared.

Surprisingly amongst everything, I kept scoring good marks. And acquired a seat in UG medicine. Still terribly meek, yet undemanding. I had the concept that I had to do things for myself, my parents wouldn't.

I could not make friends. I was only into myself. Neither in school, nor in the college. I had accepted life, as a silent struggle where no one would be with me. But world as a whole frightened me so much, that I was shy. Too shy to cope.

In the middle of my initial year in college, my parents finally filed divorce. I got to know, that my father was already in an affair with his PA, and mom had found a new partner. They had finally decided to end this sham called marriage.

I don't know why, I still begged for my mom to stay, when she left the house. I fell on their feet, I tried every means to convince her, in vain.
Rather, I was invited to her flat to stay with her, and her new live in partner.

I left home. Shifted to the hostel. There, a meek me, was subjected to tremendous ragging. I almost escaped back home. Only to find my dad's PA, now his almost legal partner, making out with him, half naked, in the living room.

Puking, and cursing such a life, I ran to my mother, to the flat she had welcomed me into.
She did that again. Hugged me. I was overwhelmed.
I began staying at her place.
Yeah, with her live-in partner as well.

Hah!!

Within a week I realised, the man in his mid fifties had begun eyeing upon me. The man, who was my mother's boyfriend. A shy and afraid of the world kinda girl like me, began staying indoors, locking myself.

But how long even?

One day in the absence of my mother, he held me by the waist. God knows what more would have happened, hadn't the pepper spray on the table reached my hand in time.

My savior."

Ranjavati stopped. And stared at the sky. They stood at the huge balcony to the lounge. Her golden bangles glittered and tinkled as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

Sanjay's throat felt deadly dry. However, he couldn't move to bring some water.

" When I informed my mom, all she did was slap me.

I returned to the hostel. Endured every ragging thereafter.

Because, it was far less cumbersome than what my soul had already gone through.

Parental love ended this way. I never went back to them. Neither did they try contacting me anymore after I did not receive their once in a month call for a year.

A part of me....that believed....life was beautiful, had been murdered by my own birthgivers.
I sometimes wonder, how better it'd have been, if I was really an orphan.

Or if, they had not taken the pain... to produce me once upon a time. "

Sanjay felt a strong urge to place his hand on her shoulder. She glanced at him.

" Having surges of sympathy?
I advice you, try two shots of Vodka at least. You'll be free of such upsurge. " , she laughed out loud.

And inhaled deeply.
" Parental love.... crossed off the bucket list.
By the time my teenage ended, I was a stoned, emotionless woman.

This was when, romantic love struck.
And squeezed the last portion of soul off my body.

When it was my second year, when I was twenty, when my life revolved only around books and not humans, when forensics turned out my most favorite subject, I met a guitarist at a fare. I fell for his music immediately.  It was a breeze, a new form of life as a whole. The human was immaterial to me. I held no interest for him, but the tunes rended my heart, more than usually.

Not long after that, he pushed himself into my life. He weakened me on the knees with whatever he played on the instrument, and soon after I realised, I had fallen for him. Badly.
I was afraid, but he held me close, claiming he needed me too.

We loved madly for two long years. I began to believe, parental love was not my fate. But this was the realest, the purest form of love.

Then, one day, he left. Just...left.
With no trace. As if he vanished, in thin air. As if, there was nothing between us ever, as if no one waited for him, as if he owed an explanation to none, as if love was a game he was bored of and withdrawn from.

I was shattered. But why? I should have been used to losing love, isn't it?
After frantically searching for him, I got to know he had flew to USA to live his dreams as a guitarist. Was I his barrier? Or a burden? Or just, nothing at all??

Chuck it. Chuck it.
I don't like remembering them.
I don't. I don't. "

Ranjavati leaned on the railing.
Sanjay squeezed his fingers. His head was hurting hard.

" Once again I dived in lifeless objects. Books. I cleared PG entrance.
I took up whatever stream I received.

And that, introduced me to the last nail to the coffin.

I was in PGI Chandigarh when I met him.
He was the HOD, Anaesthesiology.
In his thirties.
Still, a bachelor.

He grew unnecessarily affectionate towards me.
And I?
A loner, however hammered, stoned, beaten, hanged, would always go searching for love, even mistake everything else, for love.

I did too. Once again.
I protested for long, then gave in.
Dedicated almost my life to him.
Finally thanking god, that I had got the love I had been searching for.

And then one day, I discovered, he was married for five years now.
Had two kids. In another part of the world.

That night, I injected 'poison' into my veins for the first time.

Ketamine.

A strange sound rolled in my ears. I saw myself standing at a distance. Lights danced around me. I began flying.

High, high and higher than this loveless, pathetic world.

I never came back from that.

Neither.....do I want to. "

When the sun started spreading streams of red in the east, Sanjay and Ranjavati sat on the grass lawn in the middle of the farmhouse.

Utterly silent, for the last sixty five minutes.

" Ranjavati... "

" Hmm.... "

" I know you have trust issues.

Hence I won't ask for anything from you.
Just one.

Whatever has happened to you, however unfortunate it is, does not hold you responsible for anything at all.

Hence, can you just once, let me stop you from harming yourself? "

" You can't do that. Mr Superstar. Not to me. "

" Challenge? " , Sanjay could not even smile, though he wished to. All he wanted to....was hug her.

Ranjavati stared coldly for a moment.
" Accepted. "

_______

Overwhelmed with the response.
However, did you feel for Ranjavati, even a bit?
Do let me know.
Will finish this in two more chapters.