Moved Beyond Words...

Mr. D is from Sri Lanka. He is a bit of a social outcast here, suffering from a broken heart and is also on hovering on the brink of depression.

It's been a long day.
Doctor is tired.
Doctor knows Mr. D's problem is nothing but just a bad break up with his girlfriend which lead to his 'depression'. Doctor knows the whole story and does not want to hear him lament about it again. And again.

But Doctor is after all - A Doctor.

She calls for Mr. D and he strides in.

He sits down -
Dejected.
Unsure.
Unbelieving.

And Doctor carefully selects and puts on the correct mask.
A soft face, full of empathy, devoid of judgment, caring, warm, affectionate.
She adjusts the tone of her voice and its intonation to the correct pitch; sits at the correct position, head slightly tilted, appearing understanding, knowing, loving.

And so Doctor asks Mr. D to trust her once again. To take the anti depressants. To know that she is there to help wherever she can. That she can make things work for him. All he needs to do is Trust. Trust that she can do it. Trust that she knows best. Trust that time will heal his broken heart. Trust that Doctor will Be There, Unwavering, Unfaltering.

The silence grew deeper, the air became palpable with undecipherable emotions; all other noise becomes a vortex of buzzing while Doctor's soothing voice becomes the beacon in the dark and the shake of her feathery hair becomes the only breathing object in the room.

Trust me Mr. D.
I need you to Trust Me.


I felt just that slight change of emotions running through him. It then grew.... and grew.... rising up to the surface as his fingers started to tremor. He struggles to fight his emotions. To remain calm, to remain cool.
But to no avail.
His marble like eyes behind his spectacles starts to become glassy. He blinks once, twice, and the sleeping giant in him burst forwards, exposing his all to Doctor, allowing her into his heart to touch, heal and care for his broken soul.


And as shiny tears slid down Mr. D's face, staining his jacket like little raindrops on a sunny day, he croaks out, barely audible words:

'You know Doctor, sometimes, I think God sent you to me.'

'Thank you. Really, thank you.'