The Scar

The sound of the bus wheels awoke Vrusha from her intense thoughts. She climbed the bus and took her seat. "Ticket to L B Nagar please." she told the conductor and payed for the ticket. She let out a worried sigh and looked out of the window at the busy streets of Balanagar. The black clouds reminded her of her own cloudy thoughts. This was very unusual for her parents to call her to visit them overnight. She did visit them every weekend and that itself was worth of a week of concern for her. But them calling her in between the week without any context, that scared her. She was not able to show that out of course, just as always. But she felt jittery. Her legs were shaking uncontrollably which were not visible thanks to her saree. The bus started moving and so did her thought process. She regretted being a dermatologist and not a psychologist. That way she could have helped in saving her father from his uncontrollable anger and her mother from slowly drowning into despair looking at him. This same story had been going on from past 8 years. The bus halted. Vrusha glanced at another woman who looked about 30 come and sit next to her. She appeared to be pretty normal, except the huge scars on her left hand. She desperately kept searching her hand bag for something, then looked away in disappointment. Vrusha guessed the scars were probably from an accident and the woman was searching for a scar erasing cream. Vrusha always carried a homemade one with her, so she decided to offer help. "Excuse me, do you happen to be searching for a scar removal cream?" Asked Vrusha. The woman nodded. "I always carry a homemade solution. You can have it if you want." She said handing her the cream from her bag. The woman was looking reluctant. "I'm a dermatologist so you can trust me." Vrusha said smiling. The woman laughed and took it from her. "Thanks a lot." She replied. "No problem. Did you get that in an accident? Just asking." "Well, yes but it was 6 years ago. The scar is a keloid." "Ah." Vrusha replied understandingly. A keloid scar. This reminded Vrusha of someone. And surprisingly, it wasn't one of her patients' condition. It was her former pen pal's condition. Exactly 6 years ago, she had almost been slipping into depression. She could not listen to her parents' loud muffled arguments from her room anymore. Somehow, she had blamed herself for her father's high BP levels. She started losing contact with her friends and her interest in all activities she loved before. She isolated herself from everyone and almost from herself too. Almost. One day she just wrote down her feelings and wrote it as a letter to a random address. Shockingly, she received a reply. The writer on the other end had had an accident and needed an operation in her left hand. That resulted in a scar that refused to leave, a keloid scar. Her pen pal listened keenly to Vrusha's problems at home and encouraged her to move on. Her magical words worked, as she was training to be a psycho therapist. She learnt to stay positive amidst the negativeness. Her pen pal herself was in a difficult situation, facing remarks from others because of her scar. But she still helped Vrusha look at the bright side. Her parents were a little backward so she didn't get a chance to go to a therapist until she moved. When she did, her therapist had told her that her conversations with her pen pal had actually prevented major damage. Unfortunately though, they suddenly stopped writing as their exams had approached and lost contact just like that. She felt bad there was no way she could repay her. That memory made her frown. She felt her bag slightly vibrating. It was a call from her mother. With increasing anxiety, she lifted it. "Vrusha." Her mother said with a frail voice. "Yes mother." "I don't think it was right for me to ask you to come so instantly. I had no choice. Your father was growing impossible by the minute. Then he just..." She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. Your father...is in the hospital. He's in a critical condition." She was almost crying now. "They say he may not make it. Come quickly." She hung up. Her hands shivering intensively, she dropped her phone. The lady was startled for a moment and bent down to pick up her phone. "Is everything all right?" Asked the woman beside her, handing her the phone. Vrusha was on a breaking point now. She was afraid this would happen and now it did. Images of her young self playing with her parents flashed before her eyes. How long had it been since she saw them smile. All those past memories and present fears of home came at once and she ended up telling the woman everything she never told anyone else, except her pen pal. And there was something in the woman's body language which didn't make Vrusha feel uncomfortable to share her thoughts, like how she usually felt with others. The woman hadn't suggested her to do anything, just plainly listened. That made her feel much better. Although, she caught a small tear forming in the woman's eye. She didn't know if she imagined that. Was her story that pathetic that it made others cry too? The woman was about to say something but the bus halted again. The woman realized it was her stop so she stood up. But she turned to Vrusha again. "This is my card. It was nice meeting you again." She said handing over a card. "Thank you." Vrusha replied. "Thanks to you too." She said as she descended the bus. Something clicked in Vrusha. The woman had said 'meeting you again'. She looked at the card. 'Alekhya Iyer, psycho therapist'. She didn't have to hide that beaming face at all, she couldn't. It was her pen pal, Alekhya. After listening to her story, she had recognised her. No wonder Vrusha was so comfortable in sharing. She looked at the card and felt pleased that she had finally healed her friend's scar, just like she had healed hers.

Anandi

Writer
Philomath Team