The staff at the mental asylum had asked him if he would be willing to speak to researchers from an NGO who were preparing a report on the state of mental health facilities and awareness in different parts of the country. Talking to the caregivers was an important part of the research. He had agreed. Not only did he want to support research activities as an academician himself, but he also had strong opinions on the issue. That day after seeing Amrit, who was in no position to recognize him or talk to him, he waited for the researchers to join him.

“Paritosh?” Mouli was surprised to see him there when she arrived.

“Mrs. Banerjee? How come… Oh!”

“I volunteer with an NGO and I am researching… So, it’s you who I am supposed to meet.”

“I guess so,” Paritosh said, his face not giving away anything about how he liked the idea.

Mouli sat down beside him, “Can’t say that I’m happy to see you. Not here! I am sorry.” She now understood his earlier hesitation in talking about his family.

“Don’t be. We all live our share of life.”

“Yeah. So, who is it?”

“My wife.”

“Are you comfortable talking to me? If you’d prefer to talk to someone you do not know, I can arrange for another researcher to interview you.”

“I’m fine.”

—

Twenty-six years old Paritosh had come back from the US after finishing his Ph. D. Amrit had already been chosen for him by his parents. It wasn’t a surprise. He had been told about that. He was prepared, even excited, and was looking forward to meeting his bride. Meanwhile, he had gotten a job as a faculty member in a leading Social Sciences institute in Mumbai. His mother was not keeping well and it was decided that after the wedding Amrit would stay with his parents for some time to take care of his mother, while he would try to visit as often as possible. That was a dampener in the plans he had for his married life, but he wasn’t the one to defy his parents.

The wedding took place as planned. Amrit came home. After a month, Paritosh came to Mumbai to start his job while Amrit stayed back. Some time passed before his family told him about the problems. Amrit, apparently, often had seizures. She would lose control over herself and behave weirdly; sometimes going to the extent of harming herself and others. Paritosh got worried. He talked to her on his next visit home. To his horror, she broke down while confessing to him that her problem was not new.

She had been having those seizures for several years. The family was worried about it affecting not only her chances of getting married, but also that of her younger siblings. People might think all of them were mad! So, they had gone to great lengths to keep her problem a secret until they could get her married off. She begged him to not let people outside their family know about her problem until her siblings were married. After that he could kill her for all that mattered. She’d happily write whatever suicide note he wanted.

“I should kill myself. But I am too much of a coward. I am so scared of pain. But if you kill me, I promise, I won’t do a thing to protect myself.”

Paritosh was, at first, horrified to hear her talk so. Then pity overtook every other emotion. The situation he had landed into made him angry. But he could not be angry at her. What was her fault? She had no say in the decisions of her life. Brought up with shame and guilt about her condition, she just wanted to stay out of everyone’s way. She did that for her siblings and parents by getting married.  And once their lives were settled, she was willing to do it for him too. Proposing something as outrageous as her murder at his hands.

What was he to do now? He accepted his destiny. He explained to her, as calmly and sympathetically as he could manage, that she shouldn’t talk or even think about dying. He would take care of her. He tried talking to his parents. He would take her to Mumbai with him. His mother did not agree. Who would manage her seizures when he was at work? Besides Amrit was useful to her when she was healthy. She would stay with them as was decided earlier. Conditioned from childhood to obey his parents, it was difficult enough for his to argue with them. It didn’t help that Amrit also agreed with the opinion of his parents.

“Ma is right. I should stay here. But…”

“But?”

“I am not good for you. You should get married again. To a better girl.”

“Don’t be silly,” he had admonished her. But the maturity and calm he maintained for her sake, were no cure for the void and frustration in his own life.

Substantial property and gifts had come to him by way of dowry from Amrit’s parents. He did not know how his or Amrit’s life would turn out to be. So, he invested the money in her name so that she would have enough for herself, all her life.

Some more months passed. His mother’s health as well as Amrit’s condition deteriorated. Paritosh decided to put his foot down this time. He went home, intent upon bringing back his parents as well as Amrit with him. Both the women could get better treatment in Mumbai. But his mother died during that visit. His father did not want to be uprooted from the place that had been his home all his life. So, Paritosh came back to Mumbai with Amrit.

He took Amrit to the doctors, but they were not hopeful of recovery. Her condition would deteriorate day by day, they told him. If she had gotten help in her childhood, it could have been different. But now there was no hope. At around the same time they discovered that she was pregnant. Paritosh wasn’t sure that pregnancy and having a child was a good idea. But Amrit was extremely happy. She was convinced that her child will help her recover; that she will find the will to recover for the sake of her child. She was sorely mistaken. She had a seizure soon and she ended up harming herself so much that the baby could not be saved. The shock and guilt worsened her condition. Paritosh took a year’s leave from his work to take care of her. But there was no improvement. At the end of it he was left with no choice, but to admit her to the mental asylum, where she could be supervised all the time.

And that’s where she was for last eight years now. These days she wouldn’t even recognize him most of the time. Still, he paid his weekly visit to her.

—

To be continued