Olive Chaudhuri

//  “Meera”, the therapist called. “You sure you don’t wanna say anything?” He asked. I looked at him and shook my head. “Give it a try Meera. Words will help in healing.” Like every day I gave him As-If-I-Care look and went back to my room. And like always he chanted from behind - “Confessions are good for the soul Meera”. I came back to my bed and start thinking about why does he keep saying that? Is this a part of his psychological study or just a random one-liner he flaunts. And do I give a f*uk? I mean, all I have to do is eat thrice a day, take these medicines which keeps me drowsy, attend therapy, look around other so-called patients from my window who roam around like zombies, lay on the bed and stare the ceiling for hours with this unique peculiar medicinal smell around me. Except for the silences, I hate everything about this place. But now this is a life I’m destined to live, life in a mental asylum. Now, it’s been more than a year here. I haven’t spoken to anybody yet. ...

//  She was staring at the passing trees, one after another. Unlike the roads of her city, this was a pleasant path to drive. No frequent brakes, no honking, no shifting of gears on every signal. Although she wanted to, but she wasn’t driving. She was at the back seat of a hired sedan on her way to Nandi Hills from Bangalore. She was strictly instructed neither to drive her own car for this visit nor carry her smartphone for the journey. Mishika had never witnessed this feeling. It was a mixture, she was nervous but also very excited about it. She wasn’t joyous but wasn’t sad either. She had been to Nandi hills before. But not like this – alone without any phone, without telling her daughters, without her husband’s knowledge. Her husband, every time she thinks about him, her eyes welled up. Atul and she had been married for the past seventeen years now, have a beautiful home with two beautiful daughters. Yet, she’s on her way to hills to meet another man without anyone’s knowledge....