A Dark Dream..

Waking up is something normal. But not for me. I woke up from a coma they said. I remembered nothing.

"Anita you will have to stop being so silent. I know that this has been a very traumatic experience for you and that it all feels so unfair. Are you listening to me? Why are you so keen on wasting your second chance." Dr. Rekha was my therapist. Ever since i woke from my coma, she had been counselling me. The depression that set on me after realising that i had lost all memories, drove me insane. It was only through her that sanity was restored. "Anita", she went on,"listen dear, life is lying ahead of you, you have such loving parents and a caring husband. Atleast for them you will have to move on. Old memories are great. But life is full of new ones. Get out there and start living. Start creating new memories for yourself. Don't waste this second chance. Do you know how lucky you are?"

There was a lot of truth in what she had said. It was extremely painful to be unable to recognise your loved ones. My parents had broken down when they saw that i could not recognise them. My husband was more strong at heart and reacted in a more matter of fact way. I had fallen from the stair case at home and hurt my head. I had remained unconscious ever since only to wake up after two months with a clean slate for a brain. It wasn't entirely clean though. I remembered my languages, sights, sounds, whatever was required for normal life. Except the most important thing, all memories of the people i Love.

The house seemed so strange and new despite all the photos i had seen of it. Sanjay had taken all steps to ensure that i would not be surprised by anything or anyone. It was a crash course of who is who in the family. No memories does not mean that the people i forgot are out of my life also. Nothing had changed, except for me.

He was my husband, but i couldn't feel it. But yet we shared the same bed, for i did not want to burden others for my fault. It was my carelessness that i tripped off and rolled down the stairs. Everyone had suffered enough and i wanted to be the Anita that they all knew and loved. Tyring to be myself without even knowing who i was. The thought haunted me.

After spending almost a week with me at home, Sanjay finally left for work. I was home alone, not frightened but thrilled. I could finally explore the house that i had lived in and maybe find something about myself in turn. All i heard so far was that I was a sweet person, always helping and forgiving and liked to be quiet and enjoyed being at home. A wonderful cook and a perfect wife. I still felt that wasn't the answer i wanted. More than the roles i played and how i played them, i wanted to know how i thought and felt about the things i felt. And that's when i started searching myself.

The kitchen was the first fort, i scanned and scourged and ended up tidying the place. Apart from finding money hidden away in cookie jars, i could find nothing. The living room and bedroom too yielded nothing. I had noticed that my wardrobe was neatly stacked, maybe i had a penchant for neatness, as even in this search i couldn't resist cleaning the kitchen.

Finally i reached the attic, the darkest and most neglected place of the house. With a light at one end, i had to use a torch light to rummage through the things there. In contrast to my cleaning abilities, this was a mess. I was now confused. Who was I?

There in the corner i noticed, a small space hidden behind some stacked cardboard boxes. Felt like entering a cave that showed signs that early man once lived there. I had signs that someone had been there before. A reading light lying there stood proof to that. I felt i was edging on something.

Sitting in that corner gave me some peace, a rush of emotions seemed to surge from within. I turned on the reading light. There lay strewn on the floor some doodles and torn bits of papers. Then it caught my eye. Tucked in the corner between the wall and a box was a black book. I knew it was something that belonged to me.

The first few pages were all dreamy, it was me as a 17 year old penning some words on love and friendship. Then there was a break. Then there was a note about first day in college. A few erratic notes on how boring the lectures are and about the bad canteen food and the spicey pani puri that had upset my stomach. Again a break, a leap in time. It was a note on the grand engagement and how Sanjay was the best man on earth. It was all hunky dory.

But deep inside my heart was troubled. A bad feeling about reading the book kept devouring me. Suddenly i realised that it was late, time to stop reading and get moving. Instinctively i put the book back to that same corner and re-traced my steps back, leaving no clue as to where the sanctuary existed. For a strange reason i felt that it had to remain a secret.

That night at dinner he noticed the change in my face. I had to explain that I was trying to remember things. He took my hands in his, looked into my eyes and said in a soothing voice, "You don't have to be so hard on yourself. The past is past. Lets make a new start. Stop trying to remember." That is where i noticed. His voice was soothing but his eyes looked mean. I didn't know what to think of it and resorted to small talk till dinner got over. That night he held me tight in his arms till i slept off.

The next day was a frantic rush, a rush to be alone and be able to read through the pages of my journal. It was sweet, it was a poem that Sanjay had written for me while on our honeymoon. It was stuck to my journal for it was love. Some entries were scored out and some incomplete, they were the usual stuff of how the day went and how speaking to an old friend had been fun. Then i noticed the change. My handwriting had changed and so also the nature of things i wrote and then the page had a few wrinkly spots. It was dried tears.

I was shocked, what i read i could not believe. He has been the sweetest and most supportive husband and yet my journal said that he was a monster. As i read on, it became evident that i was fooled once again by his demeanor. The guy was just faking it, being nice and sweet to hide the viciousness he hid inside.

"Jan 15, 2010. Today Sanjay slapped me for no reason at all. He was watching TV and i called him for dinner. The rage in his eyes frightened me. This is not the man i married. He has changed so much. Every day the torment increases. I don't know why i am unable to stand up to him. I hope this ends soon. But why is he so violent. Mom and dad will be very upset if they know this. But how long do i go on so? I don't know what to do. I am scared. He is scary."

It was now very confusing. Why had i been such a coward? Why did i not stand up to him? The pieces started falling into place. Maybe i didn't fall accidentally off the stairs, maybe i was pushed. Had i been bolder this day would never have come. I could have had all my memories and my life back. Not like this, with no memory of a past, with no identity.

"Mar 23, 2010. I have had enough. I can't take his slurs and insults anymore. I am a good girl. I deserve a life better than this. I am leaving him. I have decided. I am going to MY HOME tomorrow. Goodbye Sanjay. Hope the devil takes you. I hate you. Rot in hell."

Guess what, Mar 24 i was admitted into the hospital, unconscious. Piecing the puzzle together was not difficult. Surely he was there when i fell down. He sure was capable of it.

Maybe i was a coward then to stand up to him. But then today i was a stronger woman and I had no intention of wasting my second chance. I had made up my mind. There was no looking back and no postponing. It was time to put an end.

It was not difficult to locate the nearest police station. The journal did all the talking. The rage in his eyes was evident when he was being taken away by the police. I had nothing to say to him. All i could say was "Rest in Peace Anita".