Episode 4

“I am Daksh Agarwal. You used to call me ‘Bhai’, Vrinda, but now you can address me in the manner you like,” said Daksh, taking his seat beside her bed as she looked at him with an icy cold blank stare which ran over his features in an attempt to recognize him, only to fail once again, which burned his heart.

“If I used to call you ‘Bhai’ in the past, then I will continue addressing you in the same manner, Bhai. I might not remember anything from my past but the people around me do. I don’t want to cause them any more pain than I am already causing by addressing them in a manner different than I used to. That’s the least I can do,” replied Vrinda, with a slight smile playing on her lips.

She was not aware of the reason why she felt that she could open up to him completely and felt so protected around him. She was sure that he would have loved her truly like a brother if she could feel his love emanating from the remains of the past which were damaged beyond repair.

Vrinda’s words brought tears to his eyes. Her compassion was always the characteristic which stood out despite every odd and seeing it once again gave hope to Daksh that everything was not lost yet. He wanted to voice out the jouissance her words had brought to him but he chose against it, since it would only make her lament over her lost memories further and the bereave the bonds she had buried too deeper.

“I am six years elder to you, Vrinda, and being near your age and being a good friend to you in the past I have memories of greater part of your childhood so Maa thought it is appropriate that I share my memories since they can fill a larger gap,” stated Daksh, affectionately smiling at her.

“That was thoughtful of Aunty. But was I mischievous? Or was I silent?” she demanded, child-like innocence twinkling in her eyes as she stared at him with a desperation so reminiscent to Daksh of her image they had known and laughed that he had to stifle a sob which struggled to escape her lips.

“You were, surprisingly, both, Vrinda. Very naughty at home but very silent otherwise. Some thought that you were being shy, some thought you were arrogant about your family’s status and another few thought that you were guilty of something because you used to be quite mischievous at times,” answered Daksh, the faces of those who considered those possibilities flashing in his head but it would do no good for Vrinda to learn of them.

“But what was the truth, Bhai? I am not able to relate to either of those emotions,” Vrinda replied as the lightening of realization struck her, burning her in the way,“..but that could be because I have forgotten.......”

“The truth was something wholly different..”

--FLASHBACK--

“But Bhaiyya, she does so much nautanki ghar pe (drama queen at home). This not like that and that not like this, why silent in class?” questioned Vivaan, his broken English, as he tried to apply his teachings at school into real-life, making Daksh end up in splits.

“Why don’t you speak in Hindi till you actually learn English? That way you wouldn’t kill people,” teased Daksh, holding his stomach as he doubled over with laughter.

“Bhaiyya...” Vivaan groaned, pouting in frustration at his twelve-year old brother who seemed to think that he was aware of the happenings of the entire world.

“Okay, I will tell you, because I don’t want to listen to that sentence again! Mumma- Papa and Kaka-Kaki were discussing it yesterday. Vrinda has some kind of mutism, selective mutism, I guess,” answered Daksh, remembering the explanation which his teacher had given him when he had questioned him about it.

Vrinda was the sister he had always yearned for and they had hit off like siblings at their very first meet. It hurt his innocent heart that she could not joke around, indulge in playful fights or make funny noises like they did at school or like she liked doing sometimes at home.

“Silechive? Mootism?” asked Vivaan, blankly at he stared at his brother as if he had seen an alien who was in turn questioning Vivaan’s teachers mentally.

“Arre Mere Bhai, Selective Mutism, Gai Ki Tarah Mat Bol, Mootism. Selective Mutism Yaani Ek Disease Jisme Woh Kabhi Kabhi Bol Bhool Jaati Hai, Khaas Karke Tab Jab Uspe Dabav Ho,” explained Daksh, empathy swirling in his pools.

(Oh, brother mine, it is selective mutism and don’t say it like a cow, mootism apparently. It is a disorder in which she forgets the words at times, especially when she is in tensed.)

“Arre Main Bhi Tho Wahi Bol Raha Tha Na? Silecthive Myutism! Lekin Mujhe Nahi Lagta Ki Usse Koi Bimaari Hai, Woh Tho Bas Natak Karti Hai! Lunch Le Leti Hai Meri, Tab Ache Se Pooch Sakti Hai Tho Baaki Time Kyun Nahi?” demanded Vivaan, furrowing his eyebrows in a manner as if he was the lone-wolf standing against the conspiracy of one and all.

(Hey, even I was saying the same thing. Silecthive Myutism! I don’t think that she suffers from any such disease but is acting. She takes away my lunch and when she can be fine while demanding for it, then why not at other times?)

Daksh rolled his eyes at his brother as he stood up to walk out on his brother because he was too young and too caught by his dislike to Vrinda to see the truth.

“First learn the pronunciation of the disease she is suffering and then you decide if she suffers from it or not,” exclaimed Daksh as Vivaan protested despite his walkout.

“My pruninciation and idea correct! You wrong!”

--FLASHBACK ENDS--

“Forget him, even I cannot believe that I had selective mutism. I mean, I am feeling a lot of pressure right now, Bhai, but I don’t feel like I am going to go blank or I’ll go mute any minute. How did it happen when I was young? Or is it because I don’t have the pressures I had as a child?” questioned Vrinda, slight smile playing on her lips as she visualized the bond between the brothers.

“Your parents had very high expectations from you, Vrinda. Of talent and of etiquette. I think you couldn’t take the pressure as a child of merely years to manage the perfect etiquette and absorb every bit of the advanced information given to you. Being from an influential family has its own downsides and one of them is high expectations. Maybe your voice got shut under the burden of it and now that you don’t feel it anymore, you don’t suffer from it,” explained Daksh, remembering the words of the doctor who had examined Vrinda after she had overcome her mutism and the arguments which ensued.

Vrinda sat benumbed at the new information as the revelation that her family was her culprit struck her but she felt that they would not have intended for her to suffer or feel any pain, instead their intention would have been quite contradicting to the result of the expectations.

“Your brother. Aunty told me that we were best friends and you are saying he did not even believe that I suffered from selective mutism, then how did we end up being friends, let alone best-friends?” she mused, trying hard to get the picture of her yesteryear bestfriend in her mind but it was of no avail.

“He was an immature kid at that time. He did come around eventually and you did not just become friends but best-friends who needed just a look to understand each other, removing the need of words and he was also the one for whom you finally decided to overcome your fear which resulted in your speech disorder.”

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