by Nikita Singh
For
Tutu and Popo
— my little cousins, the bravest boys.
We’re born with millions of little lights shining in the dark
And they show us the way
One lights up
Every time you feel love in your heart
One dies when it moves away
‘All the Little Lights’
—Passenger
Contents
Author’s note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Book
About the Author
Copyright
Author’s note
From the moment it was conceived, the central theme of The Reason Is You was simple – it would be a book about being with someone who’s dealing with depression. The challenge of loving someone, taking care of them, shouldering the responsibility of their happiness, and how it can change a person when they constantly have to put their own well-being and happiness on the back burner, how overwhelming it can become to try to help someone they’re not equipped to help.
As a society, we don’t take depression (and mental health, in general) as seriously as we should. We don’t pay attention to it. Worse, we diminish it. We think a depressed person can simply choose to not be depressed anymore – snap out of it, smile, stop making others uncomfortable with their sadness.
Another concept central to The Reason Is You is the conventions of a relationship between two people – how we’re supposed to behave in a relationship, what our roles and responsibilities are, what are the boundaries that society has set? I wanted to write about how our ideas of right and wrong tend to take precedence over our true desires in our relationships, but how, if we’re brave, we can make decisions that are right for us as individuals, even if they don’t feel like the right thing. What Siddhant says to Maahi in the end summarizes this accurately: If you and I are meant to be together – if she was just a chapter and you are the book – then kissing you that night was the right thing to do.
When I finished writing Like a Love Song, which ended with Maahi and Siddhant breaking up, I knew I had to revisit their relationship, put them in a new setting, add fresh perspectives to both of them, give them a second chance and see where it went. There was too much love between them for the story to be over.
While Like a Love Song is from Maahi’s point of view, in The Reason Is You I was intrigued with the idea of writing from a man’s perspective – taking a closer look into Siddhant’s mind.
As nervous as I was about tackling a sensitive topic like depression, and writing from a male perspective, the thrill and challenge of inspecting the boundaries of relationships and giving Maahi and Siddhant a second chance balanced out the scales. (Who am I kidding, I cried frequently during the process of writing this book; it was hardly a cakewalk.)
One of the hardest parts of this book was writing the character of Akriti. I wanted to be good to her, but not at the cost of authenticity. I wanted her experience, her emotional upheaval, her mood swings, to feel real. I wanted the book to be messy, uneven – to reflect Akriti’s state of mind.
I also wanted readers to think about various possibilities, how one detail can affect the rest of the equation, how things would be if the opposite had happened. Was Siddhant the reason Akriti could initially cope with the loss of her father? Or did his support handicap her and stop her from seeking professional help sooner? Was Akriti the reason Siddhant couldn’t be with Maahi when he wanted to? Or was her poor treatment of him what prompted him to seek out Maahi and fall in love with her again? Did Siddhant’s new relationship with Maahi add to Akriti’s grief? Or did it lessen Akriti’s guilt a little, knowing that Siddhant was finally happy now, even though it was with someone else?
The grass is always greener on the other side, but we’re on this side, so we should try to water the grass on our side. Yet, when things don’t go our way, we start to look for reasons for our happiness/unhappiness, for someone or something to blame. Which brings me to my last point – our inclination to find reasons to be happy outside of ourselves. Should we be searching for reasons to be happy in someone else, or should we be turning inwards? Because maybe, the reason is you.
Chapter 1
As Siddhant shrugged out of the white lab coat and hung it up on the lone hook on the wall inside his locker, he felt the last of his energy leave his body. He tilted his head to the right, cracking a bone at the back of his neck – a bad habit he had picked up years ago, from sitting in front of a computer for several hours at a stretch while studying for his medical exams. He’d just finished a twelve-hour shift at the hospital, and what he wanted most was to shut his eyes and keep them like that for the next twelve hours.
However, he wasn’t at liberty to choose to spend his evening sleeping. He had plans, ones that he had made when in a much more adventurous mood. But as always, when it was time to follow through, he regretted making them. He gathered his belongings and headed home.
For the past decade, every waking second of his life had been dedicated to building a life as a doctor. It had started in tenth grade, when his parents sat him down and had the talk with him; the talk about what he wanted from his life and what he was doing to achieve it. However, all parties involved understood full well that it was less about what he wanted for himself and more about what they wanted from him, expected of him.
Siddhant’s parents were doctors, and so was his elder brother. His life had already been chosen for him; he didn’t have the right to opinion or decision-making. But he couldn’t fully blame his family, could he, since he had never tried to express his opinion on the matter? True, he hadn’t brought it up because he knew it would be futile, but he couldn’t say that he’d tried to show his parents his perspective either. He’d simply accepted his fate and slaved away for a decade to get where he was today: a senior resident at AIIMS.
If he was completely honest with himself, he actually loved his job. As a perennially curious person, when he’d first started preparing for medical entrance exams, he’d found that the more he learned, the more he wanted to. His thirst for knowledge made him an excellent student; so even though the long hours and hard work were overwhelming, he couldn’t deny the wave of satisfaction he felt at the end of every day. Practising medicine brought him fulfilment, so he tried not to complain too much. And anyway, his life was much easier now that he was a senior resident. Earlier, he had worked as a junior resident for two years, with eighteen- to twenty-hour shifts alongside tons of study material to wade through. In comparison, his life felt like a vacation now.
If only he had had the night to relax … But he didn’t, so he needed to get over it. After all, he was going to have dinner with a beautiful girl, and word on the street was that being social and going out was a much better way to spend evenings than lying uselessly on the couch.
When he got home, he walked straight to his bedroom, avoiding looking in the direction of the couch and imagining himself having a cold beer in front of the television. He picked out a shirt and ran the shower. Within ten minutes, he was ready to leave.
Just as he was about to step
out of the door, a voice called from behind him, ‘Where are you going?’
‘Date night,’ Siddhant said. He turned around and saw his flatmate, Priyesh, come out of his bedroom, his dishevelled appearance indicating that he’d just woken from a nap. Siddhant couldn’t help looking longingly at the couch.
‘Right. This the doctor girl?’
‘Yep.’
‘Should I wait up?’ Priyesh grinned, and then ducked behind the fridge door, fishing for something.
‘Bye,’ Siddhant drawled as he left, ignoring Priyesh’s remark. Priyesh had the tendency to hide behind jokes when it came to uncomfortable topics, but while he was acting casually about Siddhant going on a date, they both knew that this was not a frequent occurrence at all. In fact, Siddhant hadn’t dated at all since his break-up with Maahi, which was over a year ago. Maahi … Just thinking about her made his chest feel heavy … and he was suddenly grateful that Priyesh had made light of the situation instead of making a big deal about it.
When he arrived at the restaurant, Siddhant was happy to find that he was a few minutes early. The last thing he needed on a first date was to be late and have to make excuses. Besides, he liked this girl, and wanted to make a good first impression. Just as he pulled out his phone to check on her ETA, he saw her walk in through the door.
When Akriti caught his eye, she smiled a smile that reminded him why he’d asked her out to begin with. The kind of smile that was in equal parts genuine and childlike. Her eyes widened slightly as he walked towards her. When he reached her, she rose on tiptoe and hugged him lightly, her earrings jingling happily as she pulled away.
Siddhant had a strange out-of-body experience: he watched himself greet her by accepting the hug she offered, as if they were in a movie. When he pulled away, she was still smiling, which brought a smile to his face too, until he realized that he should probably say something. They couldn’t just stand there indefinitely, grinning at each other like lunatics. He’d never done the formal dating thing, and his only frame of reference for what to do next was Hollywood movies. He racked his brain for something funny or interesting to say, and finally came up with a meagre ‘Hi!’
‘Hi, Sid. You look very handsome,’ Akriti said, with another one of her smiles.
Right. A compliment – why hadn’t he thought of that? She did look extremely pretty in her flowy dress with her wavy hair framing her face, but now he felt like the window of opportunity to compliment her had passed.
‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Should we go in?’
‘Yes, let’s,’ Akriti said, taking his arm and purposefully walking inside.
They were definitely in a movie.
As they were shown to their table, Siddhant recalled what Prachi, their mutual friend from the hospital, had told him about Akriti – that she liked things proper. Everything planned out, done step by step and right. She’d warned him that it could be annoying to try and live up to the expectations rom-coms had set for Akriti, but so far, he found it cute.
Once they were seated, Akriti looked at him expectantly. He was required to say something, something interesting.
‘You’re making me nervous,’ Siddhant said, resting his hands on the table and looking straight at her.
‘I am?’ Akriti looked confused. ‘What am I doing wrong?’
‘Nothing! I guess I just haven’t done this dating thing in a long time, or ever, actually. Not sure how to …’
‘Talk? Just use words.’
Her comment made Siddhant feel dumb. He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he was quiet for a moment, before he asked, ‘Um, how was your day?’
Akriti looked at him for a second, as though thinking, really? But then she said, ‘It was all right. I assisted Dr Patel in a neurosurgery, so that was pretty cool.’
‘That does sound cool. What was the surgery for?’
‘It was a resective surgery for epilepsy. It was supposed to be pretty straightforward, but there were so many complications! One thing after the other kept going wrong. We were in there for like six, seven hours!’ Akriti was now talking enthusiastically, which relaxed Siddhant.
‘Was the surgery successful? Or are you waiting to find out?’ he asked, his interest piquing.
‘The charts looked fine when I left the hospital, but of course, we won’t know till the patient regains consciousness.’
Siddhant nodded. ‘Of course. Wow! I’m jealous. Dr Patel never brings me in on the interesting cases. Just the simple, boring ones. It’s kind of ridiculous that he’s one of the best we have in the country, possibly the continent, and all the time I’ve spent in surgery with him has been so incredibly dull.’
‘But that’s the thing, right? He does the high-profile cases with other high-profile doctors and lets us peasants assist only on the smaller cases. The only reason I got to scrub in on today’s surgery was because it was supposed to be super straightforward.’
‘Okay, answer me honestly,’ Siddhant said seriously. ‘You are secretly glad that the poor patient had multiple complications on the operation table, aren’t you? Because you got to see Dr Patel’s cool surgery moves?’
Akriti exhaled dramatically. ‘No! That’s so bad!’
‘Absolutely horrible,’ Siddhant said, shaking his head at her, his expression dead serious. ‘Answer me.’
‘No! No, I’m not …’ Akriti protested, then said in a small voice, ‘I mean, I did get to learn some cool procedures …’
‘Dr Akriti Arora! You should be ashamed of yourself.’ Siddhant admonished her grimly.
‘But … but I didn’t cause the complications! I’m just grateful for the opportunity it provided … I can help more people now that I’ve learned these techniques …’ Akriti babbled, trying to defend herself, but gave up, looking genuinely concerned by his stern reaction.
Siddhant couldn’t keep a straight face any longer. He burst out laughing. Akriti looked at him, taken aback. ‘Don’t look so miserable!’ he said. ‘All residents wish terrible things on their patients once in a while. It’s the thirst for learning; I get that!’
‘You’re awful! Ugh you made me feel so terrible,’ Akriti exclaimed, even though she looked quite relieved.
From that point on, the evening became a lot more fun. They both relaxed and talked animatedly about surgeries and doctors and spent a large part of the evening trying to determine who had assisted in cooler surgeries. A lot of good food was left to grow cold and be taken away as they barely took note of it, too immersed in their conversation.
Somewhere during the night, Siddhant realized that he really liked her. It was very easy to talk to her, even though it was the first time they were having a proper conversation with each other. They’d chatted for a few minutes at a couple of parties before this, and he’d liked her from a distance. But now, after spending hours together on their first date, he thanked himself for asking her out.
Just as he pulled out his wallet, Akriti’s phone rang. She turned it face up on the table and frowned at the screen. Siddhant resisted the urge to look at her phone.
‘Is everything okay?’ he asked instead, busying himself with the check.
‘Hmm,’ Akriti murmured absently, her eyes still fixed on the phone, lit up, lying on the table.
‘Akriti?’
‘What?’ She looked up abruptly, startled by his voice, as though she’d forgotten he was there. ‘Yes. Yes, everything’s fine.’ She pointedly ignored her phone and offered Siddhant too-cheerful a smile instead.
Siddhant stared at her for a second, unsure. She seemed absent; it was as though her body was sitting in front of him but her mind had travelled far away in the past couple of minutes. He wanted to ask, but decided it was best not to prod because it was hardly his place. She would tell him if she felt like sharing, so he let it go.
However, the next second her phone lit up again, and this time, she picked it up instantly and said, ‘Yes.’ Her voice sounded unusually loud, very unlike the voice of the girl who had been joking
and laughing with him just minutes earlier.
‘What? I can’t hear you … Hold on.’ Akriti covered the speaker with her other hand and stood up. She mouthed, ‘I have to take this outside,’ and left when Siddhant nodded.
The next ten minutes felt exceptionally long to Siddhant because in that time he paid the bill and then sat there, watching the door for Akriti. Two different waiters asked him if he needed anything else, and both times he said no, thank you, and explained that he was just waiting for his date to return. For a wild second, he worried if she’d just decided to ditch him and make a run for it, but then he saw her purse hanging from the back of her chair and his moment of panic passed.
Twenty more minutes later, the annoyed looks from the people waiting to grab his table finally got to him, so he took Akriti’s purse and stepped out of the restaurant. He let her know in a text message that he was waiting outside for her, but when he didn’t get a response from her in the next few minutes, he decided to walk around to see if she was still on the phone.
He felt mildly frustrated at her behaviour. Who leaves someone at the dinner table for half an hour without explanation? But then he remembered the distressed look on her face when she’d glanced at her phone and decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. It must have been an important or unpleasant call.
He didn’t have to look too long; just as he turned the corner, he saw Akriti leaning against the wall, hunched over, as if it was a struggle just to keep her body from collapsing. His heartbeat quickened as he rushed to her side. Her body was shaking uncontrollably; she was crying.
‘Akriti! What’s going on?’ Siddhant said, alarmed, in a voice that didn’t quite sound like his own. He had run to her, but when he reached her, he didn’t know what to do with his hands.
She shook her head, so he knew that she had heard him even though she didn’t look up at him, or acknowledge his presence in any other way. Her head was still bent into her chest, her entire body curled into itself as she wept.
‘What’s wrong? Will you please tell me what’s wrong?’ Siddhant pleaded. He wanted to pull her up, but restrained himself. Even though he desperately wanted to help her, he didn’t know her well enough or long enough to provide any physical form of comfort. Passers-by were now stopping to stare, and he looked around anxiously, trying not to wonder about how they were reading the situation.