‘Do you know a place where I can get letters typed? You have a computer, no?’
my father said.
‘Yes, I do,’ I said.
My father continued to look at me expectantly.
‘OK, I’ll type them now and get a printout from office tomorrow,’ I said. I
anyway wanted more work to distract myself. I opened my laptop.
‘Thank you,’ he said, words we did not know lived inside of him.
I wrote his three applications in the next thirty minutes.
‘How’s your friend? He said to me.
‘Which friend?’ I said.
‘The girl who came from Chennai to attend the wedding,’ he said.
The mention of Ananya was enough to stir up my emotions. I felt like someone
had punched me back in the stomach. Maybe I should take those anti-depression
pills, I thought.
‘I don’t know. Must be fine,’ I said after a minute’s pause.
‘You are not in touch with her?’
‘Everyone had busy lives, dad,’ I dismissed. ‘Your letters are done. I’ll get a
printout tomorrow.’ I shut down my computer.
‘It is good that we talk sometimes,’ my father said.
‘Good night, dad’ I said and left for my room.
I lay in bed and that is when the depression hit me full force. Dr Iyer was right,
no pill could be as bad for me as I felt right now. I lay motionless. I felt like I’d
never be able to get out of bed again. I thought of every person in my life. One by
one, I convinced myself how each of them hated me. If I were gone tomorrow,
they’d all be happier. And considering how crappy I felt, there was no reason for
me to stick around anyway. I had no one I could talk to about my situation, except
five hundred bucks an hour. I hated money, I hated Citibank, I hated my job and I
nora
(Nora)
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