"Hello, Mira", the woman, who was supposedly one of the best psychologist in the city was greeting me like she has known me for ages. I know this tactic. They start acting like they are your best friends so that you instantly feel comfortable and start blurting out everything. I have been in therapy before. SHE IS NOT WINNING.

After breakfast, I went to work. To my surprise what did I see? My mother at work along with Kartik. Apparently, now they think I am insane.

"So being a little upset about my divorce means I am depressed?" I was almost shouting. They are the ones who are nuts.

"I don't know why this divorce happened in the first place. You didn't tell me. Secondly, it was your choice and your behavior is like you are the one who got dumped," my mom said. "And now you are back to living with him. It must be putting a toll on your mental health."

"My behavior? What do you mean?" now I was getting annoyed. I was five minutes away from booking a plane ticket to another country and never coming back.

Kartik began, "You are drinking regularly. Yesterday you hardly got any work done. You are angry all the time. We just think you need to talk to someone and until then, you are not coming back."

"This is for your own good. Just a hour every week. Whats the big deal?" mum added.

"The big deal ... IS THAT I DON'T NEED THERAPY!" I raised my tone without any regret. What were they on about?

"Calm down, Mira," Kartik said. "Take two months off, work on yourself, relax and when you are feeling better. You can always come back."

So now, after being emotionally blackmailed and being given two months off from work, I was here. In Dr. Sonali Jain's office. She was a fifty something, nationally acclaimed psychologist and also a very close friend of Kartik's father. He told that if he finds out that I missed any of my sessions without any reasonable explanation then my off period from work will be extended.

"What brings you here?" she asked with a big toothy smile. What was she so happy about? Her smile was irritating itself.

"Not to be rude or anything but I think you already know," I said with an equally toothy smile. I was just trying to mock her but she ignored me.

"Your mother and your friend filled me up. I heard you have been therapy before?"

We were going to talk about the past? I thought she was supposed to help me move on not take me way back.

"Yes."

"Why was that?"

"I was a little depressed. But I only went there a couple of.."

"Why?" she said without letting me complete my sentence. "Why were you depressed?"

"I was being bullied in school and had a breakup with my boyfriend at the time, you know normal teenage stuff."

"Why did you go there a couple of times only? Your therapist concluded you were fine?"

"I didn't like her. She told me I was insecure because I told her about how I lost my father few years back. She ignored me completely over what I was telling her and concluded that all my problems were related to my father." It was honestly very annoying.

"Every problem has a root and usually they are implanted a long time back."

What the hell did she just say?

"What?" I looked at her confused. "If you are saying that I just divorced my husband because my father died when I was 10, then miss, you are the one in need of therapy. There were a lot of little things piled into one which made me take this hard decision. And the decision of separating was a difficult one to make, that's why I am a little off. We are so different, I can never be what he..."

"I am not saying that," she said while cutting me off. AGAIN. "You said that yourself. I was just quoting you a line I read in this book," she said pointing at a book on her lap.

I fell silent. She smiled her big toothy smile again. "Now I was wondering why she thought you are insecure. What did she say you were insecure about?"

I sighed. "She didn't tell me. She said I had to figure that out myself."

She crossed her arms and then made a 'hmmmm' sound. "No wonder you were annoyed."

"Damn, right."

"Here is what I think why she thought that you were insecure. This is me assuming what she must have thought. Remember that nowhere here am I concluding that this is the case with you. So no need to get angry, okay?"

"Okay."

"Actually, even I don't know," she said and then giggled to herself. Was this woman nuts? "But we still have to kill time so let me tell you a story."

This woman can't be a psychologist. SHE IS CRAZIER THAN I AM.

"There was a horse named Midnight. He was a beautiful black colour and that is where he got his name from. But his beauty wasn't the only thing he was famous for.

You see, midnight was selected to run for races by his masters. He had been taught and trained really well. His human master had gotten really nice horse shoes made from him. They were made from the best steel he could have found and nailed really well into midnight's hooves. They were so good and no matter what kind of barrier was in front of midnight, he surpassed them all. Midnight knew he was good but he was in love with his horse shoes," she said with a smile.

"He loved them and why won't he? The horse shoes protected his feet from all dangers the path had. He would take all risks he could and face all problems knowing that one of the best horse shoes were there to protect him. But one day..."

"What happened?" I asked, suddenly interested in the story.

"One of the nails that were used to attach the horse shoe onto the hoof had loosened. Midnight had run several races causing a little rusting to happen onto the horse shoe. Just when midnight went through a thorn of bushes, one of the thorn struck his feet. Midnight baffled from the pain, lost his balance causing his leg to get stuck to one of the bushes. It got entangled and a lot of thorns struck midnight all over his body. The leg which had been struck by the thorn in the first place, twisted."

I winced by just the thought. I felt bad for poor midnight. "Then?" I asked eagerly. Hoping midnight was fine.

"Midnight was rescued by his master. The thorn was removed and the best vet in the city was called to take care of midnight. Poor midnight was in pain for weeks and the recovery process wasn't easy either. But after days of pain and training, midnight's leg was finally fine. New horse shoes were made for midnight and midnight started running for races again."

Suddenly, I felt relieved. I don't know why I got so attached to the story. "But one day, out of no reason, midnight just before a race, decided to not run for it. His master tried to coax him by food and whatnot to make him run but he just wouldn't."

"Why?"

She smiled. "Then the master noticed that midnight kept thumping his feet to the ground. He thought maybe the horse shoe had loosened again but when he went to check, the horse shoe was just fine. And why won't it be fine? This time it was made from a metal which didn't rust. It was stronger and nailed to the hooves even better. "

"But no matter what, midnight just refused to run for the race. The master finally sighed and changed midnight's horse shoes with new ones. Finally midnight ran."

"Until few weeks later, midnight did this again. The horse shoes were again perfectly fine but midnight refused to run. Again, the master bought new shoes and this continued for over an year until the master had enough and midnight was pulled out of races. He never participated in a race again."

I was a little sad for midnight and still wondering why she told me this story in the first place. "That is sad."

She smiled. "Yes, it is sad. And look at that, our time is up. See you next week."

"That's it?"

"Yes. But I have an assignment for you." She said happily as if she was telling me that I had won the lottery. "Tell me why midnight refused to run, next time I see you. Also have a conversation with your ex for at least 20 minutes pretending that you haven't divorced."

"What?"

"You heard me. Now leave! I have another patient coming."

How come she has patients? She should be a patient herself.

I took my handbag and left her office. This was therapy? A story telling session?

**