Beneath the Vivid White Coats

Vivaan: Sometimes the dreams that come true.― Alice Sebold

Shrey begs me to pick Iyana up and I can't turn him down. Her house in Bangalore is on my way anyway. I feel all jittery going to her place, how will I face her, I haven't spoken to her in such a long time. My god, it's true isn't it, weddings do bring everybody together.

I met my dad, told him I am doing residency in medicine now. He smiled sadly. We have barely spoken since the day I accused him of everything. I feel sorry for him, sometimes. But if not for all his follies, right now, it would have been my mother cooking for me, instead of me cooking whatever shit it is that I call food for myself.

I hadn't seen Iyana in ages, I have been busy with residency. I am excited about seeing her today, when I have no right to be.

When I knock on the door, I had no idea what to expect. She looks absolutely stunning in the traditional Indian saree. I bet butterfly would have looked this beautiful, too.

"Please come inside, you are early!" She laughs, looking surprised.
"Take all the time you want, but we are leaving in five." I tells her and laugh, trying to lay it lighter.

She gives me a glass of water and disappears. I don't know what to do, I look around the house. It's obvious that nobody has been living around this house. I go through her book shelf. There are books of all genre here. Most books on the shelf though are for kids. I pick a book called Grimm's fairy tales.
A photograph falls out of the book and on to the floor. I pick it up. Suddenly, I feel the time slow down, I stare at a photo of butterfly numbly.

Life is funny, it has a way of going in circles, just when you thought you have it all figured out. "Let's go?" Iyana comes up behind me, startling me.
"How do you know her?" I ask her giving her the photo. She looks at me weirdly, then gives me a big smile, "that's my friend and her family." She states.
I take back the picture. "I'm so sorry Iyana. But can I have this picture?" I ask her.
She looks at me, obviously confused. "Umm sure? Why?" She asks, now curious. Life has definitely come a full circle, hasn't it?

"Iyana, she is the cute little girl I grew to love. She is the girl I called butterfly, dearly. She is one of the reasons, why I'm what I'm today. I didn't get a chance to tell her bye, Iyana. I had met with an accident. I lost my mom to the accident. I was injured gravely. When I went back to school, the girl, my first love, my butterfly had passed on too. She was just five." I tell her, pouring it all out, for the first time. All the memories with butterfly flash in front of my eyes. I didn't realise, I was crying, but I was far too gone to be embarrassed or do anything about it.
"She died?" Iyana asked, shock etched all over her face.
"You didn't know? You said you were friends!" I accuse her. "Cancer!" I whisper.
"Who told you that, Vivaan?" She shrieks, tears pouring from her eyes. I am shocked at her reaction, I thought she knew that butterfly had passed away. I just hug Iyana, "I'm really sorry for your loss, Iyana. I thought you knew." Iyana pushes me away. "Vivaan, you are not as clever as you look, are you? That girl is very much alive!" She exclaims.
I am horrified. "What are you saying, Iyana?" I ask her through clenched teeth. "Is this some kind of a sick joke? Where is she? Is she alive? Are you serious? But you can't be? Because she isn't here? Why are you doing this to me Iyana!"
"Vivaan, that girl in the picture is ME. AND I THINK I AM VERY MUCH ALIVE." She shrieks again.

I look at the picture again. I remember how butterfly looked, her face is etched in my memory forever, I would never mistake her for someone else, but she is dead. Iyana is definitely not her.

I hold her by her shoulders, pull her closer. "This better not be a joke, Iyana!" I growl at her through clenched teeth. I threaten her for the first time. Because this whole thing has to be a big joke.
She holds my wrist tight and yanks me forward. She points me to a wall full of photos of butterfly. "That is me Vivaan. I'm not dead, I'm very much alive. That is my mom right there, that is my dad. You must have forgotten your butterfly's face. Don't call me dead for resembling her." She cries. "I am done with you mistaking me for her. This is unacceptable. Now you think me dead too. Go see a shrink VIV!"
"I will never forget her face, Iyana." I state, my teeth clenched. "Which school did you go to Iyana, for kindergarten?"
"St. Martha's school. Why?" She asks.

"Sometimes the dreams that come true are the dreams you never even knew you had."
― Alice Sebold,