19th January 2014
"So", I asked.
"So what?", he replied. I was quite surprised that he spoke finally.
"Well I am paid by the hour, and for the last three sessions all you have done is stare at the paper weight on my table. You can benefit if you talk. There must be something troubling you for sure."
"What makes you think I am troubled?".
He had a strange confidence in his voice. He seemed in control. He seemed almost impervious, showed no signs of any interest and clearly did not want to talk. He had been quite, in an uneasy way for the last three sessions. Although we never had a conversation, not even a word, I always ended up having a severe headache after he left. His presence was not easy to handle somehow.
"Well your school teachers tell me you are unusually quite in the classrooms. But your grades are all excellent. Do you like school?"
"There isn't much to like there. Its all elementary", He replied blankly. He seemed responsive today. Two sentences in a minute from him I was told is quite an achievement.
"So you are one of the smarter kinds then eh? Acing all your exams effortlessly"
He smiled, not an amused smile but one where it makes you feel you have just made a fool out of yourselves.
"No I am one of my kind", he replied.
"So you think you are special? That's exciting. So what makes you think you are one of the kind"
"I just know it. Your benighted state is my testimony.", He shot back. I thought may be I could tell him one of my own childhood stories.
"Well you know when I was seven, my father used to tell me that it is never a good...."
"Nobody gives a fuck what your father said to you. Nobody. Not even your mom when she ran away from him when you were just three years old. And frankly you just say it because some rotten psychology book tells you to relate your childhood with mine."
"What? No. Where the hell did you learn all this from?"
"Just be happy that I am not mad today. I could just hit you with this paper weight till your brain splashes out of that skull of yours and then I could just stick my fingers into it and feel its texture. It is an amazing feeling you know."
"So.. you have done it before? What does it all mean?"
"How else do you think I was inducted into the foster care? All that nagging and whining. I just couldn't stand her anymore. One day on the way back from school, I took a boulder and split her head open."
"So you are telling me you killed your mom two years back?"
He went silent. His eyes shining almost captivating. His forehead sweating. He was a scary thing to look at now. He definitely blamed himself for his mother's death from the accident we all know of. He has cooked up this unusual story, may be to satisfy himself. But such hatred for his own mother, it was hard to imagine. He didn't speak anything that day. I hoped next week's session might go better.
26 January 2014
"So", I asked.
"So what?", he replied. I was quite surprised that he spoke finally.
"Well I am paid by the hour, and for the last four sessions all you have done is stare at the paper weight on my table. You can benefit if you talk. There must be something troubling you for sure."
He bent over and reached for the paper weight. The next I know.......................
"So", I asked.
"So what?", he replied. I was quite surprised that he spoke finally.
"Well I am paid by the hour, and for the last three sessions all you have done is stare at the paper weight on my table. You can benefit if you talk. There must be something troubling you for sure."
"What makes you think I am troubled?".
He had a strange confidence in his voice. He seemed in control. He seemed almost impervious, showed no signs of any interest and clearly did not want to talk. He had been quite, in an uneasy way for the last three sessions. Although we never had a conversation, not even a word, I always ended up having a severe headache after he left. His presence was not easy to handle somehow.
"Well your school teachers tell me you are unusually quite in the classrooms. But your grades are all excellent. Do you like school?"
"There isn't much to like there. Its all elementary", He replied blankly. He seemed responsive today. Two sentences in a minute from him I was told is quite an achievement.
"So you are one of the smarter kinds then eh? Acing all your exams effortlessly"
He smiled, not an amused smile but one where it makes you feel you have just made a fool out of yourselves.
"No I am one of my kind", he replied.
"So you think you are special? That's exciting. So what makes you think you are one of the kind"
"I just know it. Your benighted state is my testimony.", He shot back. I thought may be I could tell him one of my own childhood stories.
"Well you know when I was seven, my father used to tell me that it is never a good...."
"Nobody gives a fuck what your father said to you. Nobody. Not even your mom when she ran away from him when you were just three years old. And frankly you just say it because some rotten psychology book tells you to relate your childhood with mine."
"What? No. Where the hell did you learn all this from?"
"Just be happy that I am not mad today. I could just hit you with this paper weight till your brain splashes out of that skull of yours and then I could just stick my fingers into it and feel its texture. It is an amazing feeling you know."
"So.. you have done it before? What does it all mean?"
"How else do you think I was inducted into the foster care? All that nagging and whining. I just couldn't stand her anymore. One day on the way back from school, I took a boulder and split her head open."
"So you are telling me you killed your mom two years back?"
He went silent. His eyes shining almost captivating. His forehead sweating. He was a scary thing to look at now. He definitely blamed himself for his mother's death from the accident we all know of. He has cooked up this unusual story, may be to satisfy himself. But such hatred for his own mother, it was hard to imagine. He didn't speak anything that day. I hoped next week's session might go better.
26 January 2014
"So", I asked.
"So what?", he replied. I was quite surprised that he spoke finally.
"Well I am paid by the hour, and for the last four sessions all you have done is stare at the paper weight on my table. You can benefit if you talk. There must be something troubling you for sure."
He bent over and reached for the paper weight. The next I know.......................
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