Next day when I am sleeping on my office chair, I get a call from Sabina.

‘Lunch?’

‘Cafeteria in five minutes.’

The cafeteria is empty except the two of us. We are sitting opposite each other. I love this kind of peace and silence while eating. Sabina is quiet today. Our conversation yesterday has brought us closer. She could no more pretend I was some sweet little young man who could be an object of instantaneous love. She knows I am capable of giving pain to her. This makes her sensitive and careful while speaking to me.

‘You were saying something yesterday. About paying back to Anirban. Did you actually think I could do so?’

‘Very much possible.’

‘And you wanted me to do well, which would hurt him?’

‘Prove him wrong.’

‘I am not so sure of what you are saying.’

‘Some people get pleasure out of hurting others. A sense of superiority. Attack this. A good heart will be happy, an asshole will be hurt and jealous. That’s your answer.’

‘Makes sense to me. If I can show him that I am no less academically, this is going to make him jealous. He will not be happy at all. I know that asshole better than anybody in this world.’

‘You have a reason to work.’

‘Will you help me out?’

‘Sure.’

‘Done. Let’s start from today. After lunch?’

‘O.K’

I have no idea how I would help her out, by the way. Her field is different from mine. But interdisciplinary research is possible. After lunch, we go to her office. She explains to me her thesis work. Her work on the mentally ill people gets me interested. She touched upon topics that I was grappling with. She had worked on the hypothesis that if a company creates conditions that the mentally ill person is able to come out with their diagnosis in the open, it would benefit both the company and the person itself. Her research showed that the hypothesis turned out to be true. This meant that companies and other work places world over should rearrange their incentives and work conditions so that their employees find enough trust to come out with their illness. Her boundary of research was limited as is the case with the thesis nowadays. They cater to very specific research questions. But her scope for further research was really interesting. She had suggested changes in company policies which could help the mentally ill come out and speak about their illness. Policies like flexible work hours, choice of projects to work on, educating the other employees of the company about the symptoms and struggles of the mentally ill people, educating the families of the mentally ill, could bring about a revolutionary change in work cultures and make the mentally ill person more comfortable and hence more productive in the company. Her research concluded that the most important barrier for good performance of mentally ill people was not their own illness but the prejudices and behavior of the co-workers in the company towards them.

Some of her research made sense to me. The single fact that I could speak to the people at the university about my illness occurred to me to be very important. I am reminded of my PhD days when I was isolated in my room, trying to get away from people so that they do not come to know about my symptoms. I dread that my whole life, I would have to pretend that I am a normal person in front of everybody. I wish they treat me with respect and dignity and make it comfortable to be able to come out with my illness to them. This and other wishes erupt in me when I hear her speak about her work.

‘It’s not that good,’ she says. ‘What do you think?’

‘It is good. Why say, not good?’

‘Well,’ she thinks for a second, ‘I always had this impression.’

‘Stay with the right people.’

‘So how can we improve it, do some kick ass work?’

‘Give me a few days. Will think.’

‘Cool. Want to meet today while I smoke up?’ she smiles at me. Her white glowing teeth immediately gather my attention.

‘Sure. Lonely, in any case.’

I come back to my apartment taking the 4:45 p.m. bus. When I open my door, there is a feeling of relief in me. As long as I stay among people, an anxiety always stays in me like a demon. I am anxious. I speak as little as possible. I stay put on my office chair most of the time avoiding meeting people at the University. Not that I know many people but my wish is to stay alone as much as possible. Coming home, I am sure nobody is there waiting for me. There are no pretentions I have to put up to. I could be me with all my problems and issues.

I make tea, sit on the sofa, and light a cigarette. My thoughts wander around. The voices would usually come back with full force when I am alone in my house. It’s not that they would go away when I was in my office. The external environment subdues them. My attention is not on them. At home, I am conscious of my voices.

‘You eater of shit, you man of pain, why are you trying to be friends with this Sabina? Leave her,’ said a voice. ‘Marry Sabina,’ said The-light. ‘At least go out with her. I will help you out.’ A sense of repulsion comes into me. Then I gather my strength and say to myself. As long as I am in love with The-light, it will be unfair to the women if I go out with them. I would be doing injustice to them. ‘This means you will always love me,’ said The-light. Its eternal love my dear, I tell her. I am destined to suffer. This decision gives me a sense of purpose. It is as if I am appreciating myself for taking the right decision. I see her face. She is in me, in my body, in my soul. I see her in a sari. What a beautiful woman, I tell myself. What a smile!

Since I have realized that there is no chip in me, many voices I heard during my first episode have disappeared. Now it is the abusive, grieving, and the sexual voice. Occasionally, The-light or the other faculty speak to me.

You would be thinking about my psychiatrist. With mentally ill people, it is imperative to stay in touch with a psychiatrist. My psychiatrist sits at the Max hospital in Delhi. I have visited him once since I arrived. I am lucky that the medicine he gives suits me. It is the same medicine my earlier psychiatrist prescribed. Many people who suffer from schizophrenia take a long time to find a medicine which helps them. I got it in the first attempt. I have bought a big dosage of them together and take them daily. He has asked me to visit every three months for checkup.