undergoing intensive therapy....

"you wave your hands around too much"...
"you express too many emotions on your face"...
"you look like the sacrificial lamb under pre-death torture..."
"you sound like you're treating me very casually"...

excerpts from the exorbitantly expensive "therapy" i'm currently into... i cannot stand any criticism... constructive or otherwise... i tend to destroy anything that can remotely indulge in it... but times are a changing...

so, after dithering on the fence for a while, a familiar spot and sport of mine, i finally succumb to the popular choice... now that i'm already in delhi, it's only the therapist that needs to be decided... i check up on the two popular ones... one's 40km away... the other's 9km away... now, though geographical distance ought not to be 'the' criterion when you're deciding on who's(correct spelling??) gonna look into the chasms of your brain, it seemed practical enough to me... so, i choose VNR... it's 9km after all... i ought to be able to squeeze in a couple of sessions easily, i tell myself... my talking to myself has only been increasing in the past few days, given my date with the guillotine on 7th April...

so, i head out of the house, catch a cycle rickshaw and 'gupta market' the driver... he gets into position and shoots off... i am reminded of the conditions of the road... nowhere can it be more obvious when you're in one of the cycle rickshaws, with barely cushioned seats, bad roads and an insufficient supply of gluteus maximus... i 'ooh' and 'ouch' my way to the bus stand... i am not someone who's easily scared of any activity, but the thought of riding another of these contraptions in the evening on my way back sends flutters down my spine... or stomach??? and not the good kind either....

there are buses aplenty in delhi... not pretty, but the will-do kinds... a ride of 30mins takes me to the metro... two metros later, i'm at karol bagh and on another 'contraption' to VNR... i arrive in one piece, walk shakily to the building... i look around the unfamiliar territory... banks, atms, beer n wine shops, shady bakery store... i register things like i'm in a matt damon movie... oh btw, i think he's the wisest thing on planet right now... for this week atleast... a plump, middle aged guy appears from nowhere....

"VNR???" he says conspirationally...
"uh-huh", i reply now totally impressed... with VNR...  fat guy... i dont know...
"want a room??" before you stray off any further, that's his way of asking if i'd like a PG accommodation or a rented house... nothing more shadier...;)
"na-huh" am only here for a few days... only a few sessions... how can my 'condition' be that obvious???

he walks away to a pile of crates a few feet away and sits himself down... all the while watching my moves... he doesnt want me to....make any abrupt, violent, dangerous moves???...  i don't know what he expected but he's disappointed when i walk up the stairs slowly after surveying everything that there is...

what happens with my therapist is my own business... the first few sentences of the blog pretty much sum up the declaration given... i'm not sure how i can bring in so many facial expressions involuntarily...
"you appear very honest"... he commends "but you're way too transparent" he adds... "try not to be so..." he concludes...
honest??? transparent???

i'm not entirely sure the session has helped me... after i return to the house, Lekshmi insists on giving me a head massage... with strict implicit instructions to "relax"... mr. and mrs. nachi who're bearing me out while i'm in therapy look like they'll be heading to some therapy of their own soon... they're aghast at a lot of things... i put my toothbrush in the secret compartment of a cupboard instead of the bathroom...everyday... don't eat eggs, chicken, mutton, pork, veal, salmon, salamander, etc, etc... i like to watch 'lok sabha' channel on their 40inch LCD which they insist is a sheer waste of resources... i survive on 'dal chawal' and don't drink anything that's unnaturally colored... they're considering rearing an olive ridley turtle ... it's an endangered species found near the chandipur beach but they're now convinced it's much less maintenance... but most unnerving to them is my constant 'wound up' state...

"you're so wound up"
"you should relax"
"let's watch Saw VI, it'll help you relax"
"want to eat papdi chaat??"
"peanut butter sandwich?? dal?? puliogare???"

"it'll help you relax...."


i try so hard to relax, i get wound up like a bad spring... the kind that doesnt unwind even when there's nothing holding it wound...
but they're understanding... after having given my head a good 'relaxing' rub, they've left me to 'relax' some more... while they're off hunting... shopping...

so, there, i'm relaxed... seriously relaxed.... relaxing... soon... like in a minute... or maybe a little longer... but quick enough... 100..99...88... i missed a number!!! damn i'll have to start all over again...

100...99...98...97....