Natasha

This was a deadass idea!

I sat down in the waiting area outside the door of Dr. Ivy Jones clinic. My foot tapping on the ground, my tote bag clutched to my chest. How deranged I had to be to do therapy sessions the second time after the ones with Miss Thapa years ago? Would this seriously patch me up? Was I spending my beloved money on the right thing (despite the discount)? These thoughts screwed my head like a damn mixie, filling me with doubt and anxiety. Kylie's persistence was the only reason I was here. Else she wouldn't let me hear the end of it.

“Miss Natasha Patil. You're next.” The blond receptionist called my name after the previous patient exited the clinic. I gulped, tightening my grip on the bag before letting it go.

“Yes. Okay.” I gave a curt nod and entered the clinic. Here goes nothing.

I settled down the beige cushioned chair and swiveled my eyes across the room. With walls and furniture dressed in warm earthy colors and potted plants besides the table, the room looked less like a clinic and more like a room at home. Doctor Ivy Jones was an ebony woman in her forties with brown braided hairstyle in her blue formals and a pair of diamond shaped earrings extending near her chin. At first, we talked about Kylie who Ivy described as a ‘sweet little pixie’. Though she expressed her condolences on failing Kylie's sorry habit of apologising relentlessly. We both chuckled at that.

Then Dr. Ivy started off with the basic mundane questions about me, job and background. Followed by  questions like how I was feeling lately, what I was expecting out of therapy, challenges, yada, yada. I answered while she jotted down notes on her digital tab.

“Don't you get tired of asking the same questions again and again with that big smile on your face?” I couldn't help but open my fat, whorish mouth. I raised my hands in surrender when Ivy squinted her eyes through her rimmed glasses. “Just curious, ma'am.”

She laughed in her slightly deep voice. “This ma'am doesn't really mind. Not when she gets different answers in return.”

“Ah, makes sense.” I nodded. Silence followed and I willed my cynical side to get the better of me again. “So like, you'll jot down points based on our conversation and dissect me like an insect. And bam, blame it all on sweet childhood... Sorry, you told me to ask anything so...”

“Uh-huh, that's what I was gonna do. How did you know?” Ivy replied, sarcasm dripping off from each word. She chuckled again, putting her tab aside. “It's okay, child. As I said, this is a safe space without judgement. You can speak to your heart's content here...  Why do you think most issues boil down to childhood, hmm?”

“Probably 'cause the brain is developing. Something about the pre- frontal cortex...” I shrugged.

“Answered like a true science student. Yes, the pre-frontal cortex isn't developed until twenty-five,” She replied, poking her head. “Both mental and emotional learning majorly happens during childhood and teenage. Brain is like a sponge at that time— it absorbs everything around them and adapts it. This forms an emotional brain circuit. However, if a child is often exposed to abuse, neglect, fear or something that doesn't contribute to their well-being, then the brain rewires for survival. Those become our default settings, leading to complications in the future.”

“Wow, that's... deep.” I said, sinking her words in.

“However, not all issues are tied to childhood. Clients also experience unfortunate events during adulthood. In the end, childhood is the root, not the whole tree.”

The session continued. Miss Ivy answered my questions like a champ while asking about the basic stuff and dynamics with my family and friends. I guess she could very well account my fuck-ups from there as she kept scribbling with her digital pen.

In the midst, I spat shit about how colossal it was coming face-to-face with all those difficulties. Like climbing a mountain, yet never reaching the summit.

“Dear, what do you do when you have a cold and fever? You go to a doctor and take medicine, no?”

I nodded.

“Do you even think for a second you won't get cured? You don't. Then believe in this, too. Yes, it takes time and effort but through the course of my past eleven years, I learnt how resilient and strong humans are. You are too, Natasha. You've fought your battle for so long and survived. I can tell that. But maybe you don't have to survive anymore. You can live, too. Freely. I'm here to tell you that.” She gave a reassuring smile, the corners of her hazel eyes crinkling.

Somehow her last words struck a chord so deep it made my chest constrict. Guess it was time to rewire my emotional circuit.

~~~

The next couple of sessions went smoothly. Dr. Ivy wasn't in a rush to reopen my shitty wounds all at once. She encouraged me to open up about my past in doses, till where my body felt comfortable.

Every session started with some sort of questionnaire first. In addition, she made me practice nature groundwork & breathing techniques to gain control of my body before it started reacting. By the way, what's with therapists and their bullshit about journal writing and affirmations? Were we still tenth grade kids?

Nonetheless, her session made me comfortable. A safe space where I wasn't wronged and judged. It felt nice to be validated. To be told again and again that none of it was my fault. For once, I wasn't a rebel, but a survivor who survived an emotional hell. For once, I wasn't the villain of my 온라인카지노게임.

During my second session with Dr. Ivy, she offered me something she provided to many clients before— a huge plush kitty with doe eyes. Said it was mine for the time being and I could hug her during sessions if I felt like it. Weird, but sweet.

Although she made me feel validated and seen, there was one event I couldn't bullshit my way from.

~~~

“I fucked him up, Ivy! I wrecked him,” I said, clasping my hands tight, my head downcast. I was talking about Rithik for the past ten minutes. “Rith came all the way from India for me, despite his arm injury. That was the extent of his love for me. He was always in the relationship, while I was trying to wriggle out of it later on. I- I don't get it, doc. I know he was good to me. Hell, I was at my happiest. Then what I was so scared of... besides my parents? Why couldn't I fight for us? Why? I single handedly ruined one of the most beautiful things in my life.”

I swallowed a lump in my throat and bit the inside of my cheek as I vocalised my regret. “Guess I really don't deserve hearts and flowers, huh. Maybe I'm just built to whore my way around and get shitfaced by the adults. Haa, look who's victimizing now. I know you'll say not to blame yourself and yada yada, but I can't fucking help it sometimes. I can't!” I gathered the fabric of my pants in my fists in frustration.

“I understand where you are coming from.”

“You do? You really do?”

“Of course I do, Natasha. We all have been in those pitfalls of despair,” She answered, squinting her eyes a little through her glasses. “Half of the time, we up don't even know why we are there. While the other half? They know they can get out, but they don't. Not because they don't know how. Because they don't know what to do after they get out.”

That made me lift my head to meet hers across the table.

“Yes, he made you happy and yes, you hurt him. While I'm not saying what you did was right, it's not wrong either. You said he loved you to that extent... what about your love for yourself? Did anyone teach you that? No. You were brought up in an unsafe, toxic environment where you were never allowed to be yourself. Where you were only taught fear, anger, hate, betrayal— all opposites of love. Your body and mind were forced to adapt because you had to survive somehow. So when something good comes along, it feels foreign and threatening. Your system screams red alert. You don't want to expose yourself because look what happened when you did that at home. Deep down, you were scared of getting betrayed again. Perhaps if not by him, then by external forces that endangered the relationship.”

Each word hit like a jab to my chest, threatening to leak my eyes like a stream. As if falling down for decades until someone placed a hammock under me to rest on gently. As if it was okay to land.

“Sorry, I- I don't know how these tears—” I said, my voice rasped before rubbing my eyes with my palms. I sniffed. “Excuse me.”

Her hazel eyes held my gaze softly. “No need to excuse yourself, dear. As I said at the beginning of the session— this is a safe space. So be kind and don't hold yourself back. You've already done that for far too long. Crying isn't a sign of weakness, but one of strength and healing. The fact that you cried after hearing my words is because you know in your heart it's true.”

“It's true, but...” I whimpered as a fresh bag of tears fell. Hesitantly, I reached out to take the plush kitty in my arms. I leaned against the fur of the cat's face. My face contorted as the image of Rithik's lovestruck smile flashed before my eyes and how I crushed that mercilessly. “I love him, doc. I didn't want to let him go, but I did. I couldn't help it.”

“Yes, I can see that. And the fact that you loved back, despite the way you were brought up takes strength. You were already healing yourself with him, weren't you? But sometimes even that's not enough. Not when your wounds run too deep. You are allowed to grieve, but don't blame yourself. You are allowed to ask for space when things get too tight. It's like wanting oxygen. Despite how the other person is, they still have a limited perceptive ability, which isn't their fault or yours. You just have to give yourself enough room to grow. Like a plant. How could you have grown when there wasn't water and sunlight in the first place?”

A few minutes passed around the same topic. Ivy appreciated how I was opening up and fending for myself so far. That I should process all my emotions to move on. By that time, I was done sniffing my tears away and hugging the poor plushie. It felt weirdly good by the way. Ivy tapped her touch pen beside her digital tablet, letting out a sigh. “What, now? Do I have mental cancer?”

“No, Natasha,” She chuckled and pointed her pen towards me. “You know, you have this crackling queen energy. I love it... Although we seriously need to work on your self-esteem issues. You say you don't think ill of your casual relations and I agree. You are allowed to express your sexual freedom that doesn't hurt anyone. Yet you often, excuse my language— slut- shame yourself. You contradict your statement. Why is that?”

“I...” I trailed off, racking my head for answers. Her questions were too hard at times. So I just spoke whatever bullshit came to my mind. “Maybe 'cause in my society, a woman sleeping around is frowned upon. I'm just guessing here.”

“True enough. We get easily influenced by their toxic narratives. Hmm...” Dr. Ivy paused before adding. “Can you recall when you started thinking that way? Was it after you explored your sexual freedom or before that? Or someone's words that gutted you.”

Someone's words... Someone's words... And just like that, a distant voice echoed in my head, slicing through my heart like it did years ago.

“You'll rot in this school until graduation. It's your punishment for staining our izzat (reputation). Be grateful it's only for two years. A slut like you doesn't even deserve that.”

My expression hardened. I plopped my head against the kitty, laughing sarcastically. “Imagine your own blood mother playing the villain of your narrative. The 온라인카지노게임 of my life, motherfuckers!”

Thankfully Dr. Ivy didn't suck my soul further as she sensed my discomfort. I haven't really shared much about my mother dearest, other than the fact that she abused me often. I was yet to share about the infamous Tejas incident, too but Ivy was fine with me taking time. She said I was already doing an amazing job so far.

~~~

In another session, we talked about how sharing was caring. Dr. Ivy asked if I ever relied on someone. I told her about Dr. Thapa's sessions, eventually leading to my best friend Abhishek and how he helped me out at my lowest lows. Mind you, we still talk on the phone from time to time. He was currently working— sorry, slaving away (in his words) in a cutthroat IT company and was planning to quit next year. I swear when I told him about attending therapy, he rejoiced in that news more than my project in Boston. Talk about priorities. We even joked as to what kind of Natasha he'll get slapped with when I return to India.

“Hopefully the one with less innuendoes and gaalis (cuss words),” Abhishek guessed jokingly.

“Sorry darling, that's deeply embedded into my motherboard. Even my therapist won't cure that shit,” I stated proudly.

“It's great you have him. We all need one such person in our lives,” Dr Ivy said with a smile like she meant it. Did she?

A few minutes later, I came up with a rather odd question. “Is it really okay to share your troubles? Doesn't it make you feel ashamed, weak and vulnerable?”

“Why? You feel that way when you share it with me?”

“Not really since you're getting paid for it,” I answered and she nodded, not seeming annoyed in the slightest. I sighed leaning further into the couch. “I did that with Kylie and it didn't end well. So it makes me wonder if I'll ever be able to share something that deep with someone without going insane. Without feeling like I'm a defective piece.”

Dr. Ivy scribbled something on her digital tab before putting her touch pen down. “What if I told you to keep jogging for fifteen minutes straight? How will you feel later on?”

I scrunched my brows, “Tired mostly. Energetic, but tired. I'd need to sit down to rest and have water.”

“Precisely. You'll feel tired. But we don't feel ashamed about that, do we? We know it's a natural response to our body and so we give what it needs- Rest. Unfortunately we fail to do the same to our minds since its internal. We don't give the rest it deserves. Since it's unseen, there's a sense of shame or lack of understanding attached to it.”

I clapped, getting amazed. “Wow, you speak so well. You should probably write a book about it.”

Dr Ivy chuckled at that. She pulled out her drawer and picked up a book. “I did write a book about it. You can have a look.”

I took the medium-sized book in my hands that talked about taking control of our lives through the power of our minds and lifestyle. I immediately bought it, though I wasn't sure when I would get around to read it.

“More often than not,” Ivy continued on with that topic. “We need to unload that heavy burden off our chest, or we go insane inside. Worst, your physical body would start to show symptoms of that stress through a sickness. How did you feel about sharing your troubles with someone? It feels lighter, doesn't it?”

My mind reeled back to the times I shared my troubles with Abhishek and how he made me feel lighter with his undying support and words. I even recalled when I shared about my bad days to Rithik and how he washed my distress away with his comfort. I would reciprocate the same to him sometimes.

Then I reminisced about my episode with Kylie. The experience was surely disastrous at first— which Doctor Ivy explained was due to sharing everything at once, despite my discomfort. It caused my body to react first before my mind could catch up. It was the very reason why Ivy wasn't rushing me to share my past all at once. Despite that, I felt lighter later on when Kylie comforted me. It was as if I let a huge burden off my chest. Ivy told me to remember that feeling. 

I pressed my palms together. “But I feel like I'll be indebted to them if I do that. What will they think of me then? A nuisance, a burden?”

Ivy squinted her eyes a bit. “Hmm, let's play reverse then. You said Kylie told you about her abusive relationship. How did that make you feel? Were you burdened? Did she suddenly appear pathetic or a nuisance to you?”

“No, not at all. I felt she was brave. I was relieved she could trust me as a friend to share about her personal life. I felt so bad for her...” I paused as realization dawned upon me. I smirked. “You sneaky doc! So you mean people won't feel burdened if I do that.”

“Well, I can't speak for all humans but yes, they won't. Especially if they are someone close to you and care for you. They will want to help you,” Ivy said and I was instantly reminded of Rithik. She shot me a small smile. “Right now we are able to have these conversations, but I won't be around forever, dear. You'll return to India by next year and our sessions will end. And we both know life is not a bed of roses. It has thorns, too.” 

“We thrive as a community, Natasha. We thrive in companionships. Yes, it's important to be happy from within but it's also important to unload when the burden becomes too heavy to carry. You can also help unburden someone dear to you if you see them in trouble. You'll be much connected to that person from before. It will feel equally rewarding.”

I couldn't help but agree to her words this time. Needless to say, I felt more thankful about coming here with each session. “Thank you, Doc.”

~~~

People clammed into the subway train like lost sheep, making the air twice as hot as Vansh and I entered. Thank goodness we managed to get the seats before anyone else. We were both heading to our respective homes as usual.

“And I thought India was hotter,” I spoke, wiping a sweat off my forehead.

“India is still hotter. We just feel that way because of the humidity... and this crowded as fuck train,” Vansh said, tugging at the collar of his jacket. True enough, we could barely see two steps ahead of us as adults- mostly working ones, filled the empty space. He finally groaned in resignation and proceeded to unzip his dark grey jacket. “Screw it, I can't take this anymore.”

“Oo, am I going to witness a free strip show?” I said, smirking, earning a scowl from Vansh as he shrugged his jacket away and tossed it on his lap. He let out an exhale in relief. I took the sight of him in his black sleeveless shirt— the way his arms flexed as he ran his hand over his hair. Right then, I happened to notice something I had never seen before. “Wait, is that a tattoo?”

Vansh's gaze followed mine to the several lines of black ink inscribed on his bicep. He let out a proud smile. “Yeah, a little something I did after school graduation.”

“That old, huh? Didn't peg you as a delinquent, Baweja. What exactly is it?” I said, curiosity getting the better of me as I reached out to brush my fingers over his upper arm. Upon closer look, the tattoo looked like a pair of wings lit by fiery embers. A fire bird. It extended till his shoulder, nearly reaching his neck, though it was covered by his shirt. Honestly speaking, he possessed a good pair of toned arms, and the tattoo only made it better. Hotter.

Vansh stirred beside me as if I tickled his skin. He yanked my hand away. “It's a phoenix, okay. You can stop touching me now.”

“Gosh, you're so sensitive,” I teased after I caught onto the slight tint of red on his cheeks. I whispered in a mocking tone. “Dickhead.”

His jaw clenched in response. Barely two seconds had passed when I felt that same arm, circling around my neck in a vice-like grip, almost choking me out. “I thought we made it explicitly clear not to call me by that word, didn't I? I hate it.”

“Awright, awrigh, gwt off, mofh-!” I managed to gruff out. He finally loosened his arms, getting away. I placed a hand over my chest, catching my breath.

“You cocky, little shit!” I spoke, taking that chance to hit this scoundrel a few times over. Vansh displayed his hands in defense and laughed. “You have some weird-ass fetish, boy. Wouldn't be surprised if you happen to choke a girl's neck while thrusting.”

“Yaar kadey taan apna dimaag gutter chon kadd liya kar. (God, at least pull your mind out of the gutter sometimes),” Vansh accused in Punjabi, leaving me a bit puzzled. Though I heard the word gutter and mind so I got the gist. Just then, my mobile vibrated inside my handbag. I fished it out and my eyes widened.

You got to be bullshitting me!

“I wish I could, but the person on the other line is more deep in the gutter than me,” I replied, grinning. I held my mobile a little above my face and accepted the online video call. A familiar image popped up the screen- A man in a short ponytail with a thin scarf, and sunglasses hanging around the hem of his brown shirt.

“Yo! Miss me, queen?” Kunal greeted, his dimples on full display as he smirked. I plugged into my earphones.

“Yeah, right about now when you called me, skank,” I answered cheekily. When he asked about my whereabouts, I continued. “Just returning home from the office with my colleague.”

“Is she hot?” He asked and I rolled my eyes.

“Yup, one hell of an item. Here, see it for yourself.” I joked, moving the mobile's display in Vansh's direction who was busy playing games on his phone. Kunal's face contorted into a ugly laugh which made Vansh frown in puzzlement. I drew away with immediate effect. You wouldn't know when anyone would gag you like that again.

Kunal clicked his tongue on the other side. “Nah, not my type, sorry. Tell him to grow a pair of boobies and vagina first.”

“Kun, darling!” I swooned over his dirty remark. “Kabhi sudharna mat please (never change, please).”

He chuckled. “Changing is for sore losers, baby. I'm a hard winner.”

“That's the filthy man I know. So, which country are you eye-fucking this time? Wait, that stony pyramid structure seems familiar...” I trained my gaze at the background behind him while he continued to walk. My eyes slowly widened in realisation. “Oh my God! Are you in Mayan ruins?”

“Bingo!” Kunal answered, shooting an imaginary bullet with his fore-finger. He moved the screen aside, away from his face to the expansive historical ruins and pyramids behind him, kissed by sunlight and dense vegetation. “It's the Chichen Itza actually. You know during the equinox, you can see a shadow of a serpent crawling down the steps of the temple. Such is the impeccable geometry of that pyramid. At that time, imagine.”

“Yup, I can imagine...” Just as I said that, I jolted with the train's movement as it slowed down towards the station where Vansh departed. Vansh stood near the door, bidding me a silent goodbye, his expression mildly curious. I simply waved him back before resuming my video call with Kunal as he showed me around virtually.

We soon moved to voice call. Kunal jokingly asked if I could visit him in Mexico but I stated how lovely his question was, just as him. He sighed. There was a pause until he spoke.

“And if I visit you in Boston? Will you... let me?”

Will I let him? The question hung in the air, bearing two meanings. If I let him visit, it wouldn't be like our previous times where I was committed to Rithik. Nothing sexual happened between us then, but things are different now. We'd definitely be doing more than talking. Was this okay? Should I allow this?

“Come on, Nat? For old time's sake.”

Then again, he was Kunal and I was Natasha. We were strangely single and maybe ready to mingle. And who could be better than someone from my teenhood? An exceptional case.

“Fine, I guess...” I said, feeling the weight of my words sink as if I just shifted my gears. Kunal muttered a quick ‘yes’ and chatted animatedly about when he would drop by. I smiled as well. A part of me was ecstatic to see my favourite man after a long while. The other part was still unsure due to the weight of the events three months ago. 

A strange feeling settled down my chest. As if this encounter wouldn't be like my previous ones. That something might be different this time.

* * * * *

It took me time to come up with apt dialogues between Natasha and the therapist. Did some research, even asked questions on Chat GPT. I hope someone who needs to be comforted is comforted by Dr. Ivy words. What do you think? Vote and comment.

Coming to the end part- HAHAHA! *evil smirk* DID YOU SEE THAT COMING? Well, don't know about you, but I was waiting for Kunal's arrival for AGESS! I know I'm evil mwahaha! 😈 I actually wrote the next 3 chapters, even before Rithik arrived in Boston. That's how eager I was.

With that, I welcome you to *drum roll please 🥁* -
“The Kunal Arc.”
Excuse him while he hijacks this 온라인카지노게임 for a bit. I think you wouldn't be pleased by this development. I get it. But I hope by this arc, you'll understand why. This is one of my personal favourite arcs. I can't say more.

(I've also changed Rithik's character board. Hope this is better. That one sucked)

Next chapter will take you a few years back. Hope you look forward ⏩