I knock once more, louder this time.
The door is finally pulled open, "Yes?" She asks before she recognises me. Always ever courteous- Dr. Ekta, yet a little deaf even now.
"Annika," the colour drains off the doctor's face, and she almost closes the door on my face.
"Please. I need your help," I plead.
The doctor weighs me with her sore eyes.
I can see the fight in her. Whether she should let me in or not.
She leaves the door, walking away.
But the door is left open, to enter.
It is kindness, after what I did to her. If I was in her place, I would close that door before letting a word in. That's the difference between a doctor and a patient. Especially a therapist. She would help me even after everything.
Her office has downsized since the last time I visited her. I remember walking up to her office, on the ninth floor, with a pre-booked appointment, two weeks prior.
If there was a patient inside, there were two more waiting outside. And her room. . .was not this small.
I'm trying hard not to judge, but. . .
She has lost a lot, and it's all my fault.
"So what have you come for now?" she settled on a squeaky chair.
"I-- I--" I close my mouth as only air escapes it. I simply raise the slip in my hand, which reads, "Certificate for Mental Stability"
-To whomever it may concern.
This certificate is granted to Mr./Ms./Mrs. Ms. Annika Singh Oberoi, certifying the recipient to be of clear and sound mind.
She/He/They are in no way mentally compromised and is able to take care of another individual and make decisions on their behalf.
"I need your signature on this," She pulls up her square glasses, although she knows what it is from the yellow colour of the certificate.
She reads each word, intently. Ekta throws the yellow thing on the glass table before her, ending up laughing, "Wait for a second. You want my help? After all these years? The great Annika Singh Oberoi needs a stupid civil servant like me?" She continues cackling in sadness, "Why me? Just throw your money before anyone else in this hospital and I'm sure they will be happy to earn a buck, sitting on their backs."
That's it. If I sit here one more second, I risk exploding into pieces, that the doctor would have great fun in poking and breaking further.
So I get up, grabbing the certificate, "It's been a pleasure, Doctor."
"Ah Ah, I never said I wouldn't sign it. Besides the upper offices have stopped taking bribes since I came down here. Scared they'll be sent behind me you know?"
I nod, giving her a parrot's smile, passing the certificate for the second time.
"What's the hurry? Sit down. If I have to sign on it. I stake my reputation and authority over it, whatever leftover I have anyway."
"I have to hurry," my fists clench on their own. The doctor just stares at me, waiting, "That certificate- I need it. At all costs. My dad's-"
"Of course. It would take more than a bruise to get you back on that couch."
My eyes land on the rusty couch, I sit on. It looks ancient from afar, but even feels ancient when you sit on it, "All thanks to you," Ekta says, her voice filled with sass.
