Something That Fits 

The Blimeys- Something That Fits- Anshulika Bansal

I derive an incomprehensible joy in shedding tears. There are some people who don't desire harm; on the contrary, I love fishing in troubled waters. The stench of failure accolades me with peace, when the world sleeps. It starts with the quivering of the lips, sometimes blinking of the eyes faster to keep the tears from escaping and then the rolling down of comforting tears on the cheeks making their way towards the chin and falling like a waterfall from the cliff. The pleasure I feel at that time is conspicuous. I am a person who never lets off my stoic guard in public but when I am in solitude the situation is unlikely. It's like when the sluice gates of my eyes are open, a Tsunami occurs whose epicentre is deep down in the sea of my heart.

My doctor suggests that I should cry more often, and there is nothing to worry about it. "Crying releases stress," he says.


Sometimes, I surprise myself. No matter what, I didn't have the courage to look at him. My insecurities never allowed me to muster up the much needed dauntlessness. My past experiences never win over my brain. It was an imbroglio for me, a fresh hell. Speculations, more speculations, it had no end. Funnily enough, I didn't even know his name. One day, heavens were my side and somebody addressed him by his name, some fellow member of the centre.

"Fias Siar, can you come here and deal with this?" said the woman. My heart was in my mouth thumping a dramatic, uneven beat. His name was unique. It made my ears happy.

I came back home, searched him on Facebook and sent him a friend request. The dream of having a lingering chit-chat session with him died suddenly as I recalled that he knew my name as he took daily attendance of the class. It was a paralyzing situation for me, but my thoughts and actions were not in harmony. Hence, the friend request stands un-cancelled.

It had been more than five hours and Facebook didn't show me the notification I was waiting for. The skies of future have already begun to darken. I have never sent a friend request to anyone ever since; I created my Facebook account. My first try, a failure, the feeling was irritating.

Wait! There is more haunting and more bewildering aspect that I haven't mentioned yet. This guy was my teacher. I had never seen such a cute teacher ever. And, My God! His voice, it's like cubes of sugar has been dissolved in his vocals. What I liked about him the most was his voice, the correct pronunciation of every syllable, the use of fascinating Urdu words, and his conviviality. Oh! Yes, I forgot his eyes. They were cute too.  His smile doesn't touch his eyes. The mystified aura around him drew me more.  What I could make out that he is a sincere observer. Just like a sponge who takes in whatever life gives… joys, hardships, and cruelty, whatever. He quickly hides a thousand scars behind that smile. I never had the dearth of doubt that he wants to be understood by people, but often misinterpreted, he scares to explain himself.  He is not enigmatic and elusive as he thinks he is.

Pain attracts pain! The agony inside me fell in love with melancholy inside him. Somewhere, in the dreamy world they danced with each other, shared unspoken words, and cried a tearless night. I yearned to be with such a guy because these people have a beautiful soul. They understand clearly what is to be hurt, what ignorance feels, what actually pain is, and I know that they will never hurt me intentionally. He was a stranger but, I already trusted him.


Today was another therapy session with my doctor. He wasn't very likable, always coaxing me to tell more, to be honest, meditate, and blah blah blah. I was never honest with him. I hated him for being pushy. The knife on his table always lured me to pick it up and stab him. But somehow, I managed. The evil knife, with its evil grin, welcomes me into the clinic, and all I want is to have it in my possession.

He asked, "How are you these days?"  He looks me with utter consternation. I have always hated him for this burning look. It feels as if he will dive into my heart and dig out the story of my life, hidden somewhere. He knows that I haven't been truthful with him, I think. But I don't care. He never spares me with his moralizing. Fidgeting in my chair, staring at the giant clock, I wanted my session to be over.

Time flies faster than the wind. It feels as if I haven't spoken for a longer time than usual. I broke the silence with my phlegmatic answer, "I am doing well, and how are you, Doctor?"  With a victorious smile, he started ranting about his busy schedule and the patients he needs to take care. Meanwhile, I nodded and smiled wherever I would find it appropriate. This doctor was a dumbass, and he bores me to death with his long stories about life. I know he wanted me to trust him and open up as he interacted so unusually that it goes a little overboard.

My heart wanted to rush towards my home and pack my bags to the centre. I was dying to see Fias.


Fias came towards me. I was scared that he might think me like a crazy stalker. My friend request was not yet accepted which gave me chills that he will confront me and say some heart-wrenching adjectives. The fear of him hating me was more unbearable than him being unaware of my existence. I stood up and ran away from the scene.

Someone was running after me. Upon hearing my name, my head turned as a reflex action, and I stopped seeing him behind me. I was dumbstruck at the sight of him. He was all red and demonic due to running, looking murderous." Is he coming to kill me," my subconscious whines at me. His breath slightly hitched, and his lungs drag in a hasty breath, he said, "I am not going to kill you." "Oh boy! He can read my thoughts", I pursed my lips thinking.

"I am sorry; I will not accept your friend request on facebook because we are not allowed to be friends with our students but I accept your friend request in person," he said  in a philanthropic tone. I flushed. Cocking his head sideways, he signalled me to shake his already pulled out hand. Shyly I threw my hands in the air and said, "Oh! I am running short of time." We laughed in unison. A good laugh always shoos away the awkwardness between two people and acts as a catalyst in the budding process. 

Our friendship grew in a short while. We met, we talked, we laughed, we shared our lives, and we confided in each other. Being with him feels as if this is something… something that… fits. After ages, I felt this happy being with him as a friend. I wanted him to meet my parents. They should know that now I have a social life. Yes, I know my social life limits to just one friend, but a loaf of bread is better than nothing. I invited him umpteen times to come over, but he denied. I never understood the reason. "Maybe he is shy," I used to think.

He asked," Tell me one thing, why did you choose me to be your friend?" I had no answer at that time. I have never thought of making friends matching particular credentials. I do feel that Fias is my mirror. I can see myself in him. Nonetheless, I feel more like me. He is into writing short poems which he shares with me whenever possible. Being needed and being trusted is what I ever wanted from a friend. I liked his poetry, actually no; I liked the simplicity in which he inks his emotions. The way he picks up his scattered thoughts and places it on the paper is very brave. He recites the poem with such cuteness that I love listening to him. Once, he was on to some sad song he wrote a few days back. It was a masterpiece. I didn't want the poem to end, so I blurted," Aage?" He being a witty guy retaliated," Bss ho gaya, Itne me itna hi milega". I was like, taken aback with this unexpected, humorous and amusing answer. Oh! I laughed like a maniac, like a mad person. My stomach ached, and my cheeks went red. I admired the way he made me smile. He was a vampire who sucked my sufferings away.

One day I was boiling mad at him that he never understood why I wanted him to meet my parents. He stood firm but seeing me close to tears, he agreed. Happily, I held his hand like a school girl and guided him towards my home. The doorbell rang, and my mom opened the door. Beaming with happiness, I introduced Fias to mom. She arched a perfect eyebrow at me and asked," Who are you talking about dear." With a quizzical look, I looked beside myself, but there was nobody.  He was gone.

I winced. Wailing, I ran to my room and closed the door with the loud bang. Anger, betrayal, hatred, humiliation, every person who ever has hurt me, came rushing back to me. The thoughts were unbidden, and my heart was heavy. Mum was trying to persuade me to open the door, but I paid no attention. I was hurt. All I wanted is to cry, cry a lot. All beautiful memories with him tormented me. The dejection tore me into pieces. This behaviour was unexpected from Fias. He was trustworthy. He was the person I counted on. How could he hurt me so hard? He ditched me.

The next day, when I went to the centre, I didn't look at him. After the class, he came to apologize but my nostrils were flared up in anger. Bewildered by the antagonistic stare, he came after me to explain but I pretended that I wasn't listening. I averted my face as if I smelled something bad. And then, he said," Hey, please just hear me out once." He was pleading with tears in his eyes. Tears were my weakness; I can never see someone cry especially, when the reason is me. Holding his hand, I dragged him towards my home to mend the things he messed up. Apprehensively anxious, mum was waiting for me at the door. I took him and said out loud, "Mum, he is Fias. My friend." 


"She says that she has a friend, Doctor. She mentions some guy who, according to her stands beside her. He is her confidant. Only she can see him. What does that mean?"

 "Schizophrenia is a long-term disorder of a type involving a breakdown in the relation between thought, emotion, and behavior, leading o faulty perception, inappropriate actions and feelings, withdrawal from reality and personal relationships into fantasy and delusion, and a sense of mental fragmentation."

 "She hallucinates a friend who listens to her. She desperately needs such a friend in her life. It is the only cure. This happens when a person needs someone to be with, and when he/she doesn’t happen to find, they tend to create their own imaginary world with that person. We suggest you to let her be with the people on the same journey. It might help her to heal."