‘What are you doing, Madhav?’ she asked, opening the door wider. ‘Why aren’t you dressed yet?’

‘For what?’

What a strange question!

‘Son, there’s a small party for you downstairs,’ she said gently, placing her hand on his cheek. Nobody could say for certain what it was that he was going through, because his symptoms were so odd. Every doctor would attribute his condition to a different disorder. And his stellar academic record only confused them further—how could a university topper be mentally ill?

Madhav nodded and closed the door. He slowly walked to and fro in front of his cupboard, eventually picking out a round-necked T-shirt and shorts for the party. It was difficult even for him to discern what he was thinking when he took most of his decisions. He looked like a child in that attire, maybe because he felt like one. He applied some hair gel and wore his canvas shoes. He kept his spectacles in his pocket. Sighing in anticipation of the honeyed praise he would receive, Madhav dragged himself downstairs. He received a few cheers and a few whispers and sniggers at his outfit, but couldn’t bring himself to give a damn.

His mother walked towards him, past all the uncles and aunts with grave expressions on their faces, and asked, ‘What have you done?’ Madhav just shrugged, not entirely sure what she was referring to.

His mother tried to suppress her annoyance towards him and pretend as if everything was normal. She held his hand and led him to the party. His father hugged him tightly and clapped him on the back, presenting him proudly to the other guests. One of his uncles handed Madhav a bottle of champagne and said, ‘Cheers!’ The bottle sat heavily in his hand, like the weight at the bottom of his stomach.

‘Madhav, why the hell are you wearing this shit?’ whispered Meera in his ear. Her prickly voice pierced through him. She had come to the party at his insistence.

‘I don’t know.’ Madhav finally broke his silence. He popped open the champagne bottle as the guests applauded. Meera stormed into the kitchen to check on the cake.

There were around thirty people present at the party, all close relatives and friends. Madhav’s parents looked incredibly proud of their son’s achievement. But Madhav’s head was aching rather badly. The music was loud and the dim lights didn’t help. Suddenly, Meera dragged him into an empty room. She closed the door and hugged him.

‘What are you doing? Is everything okay?’

‘Everything’s perfect, my little schoolboy.’ Meera tried teasing him but it turned out to be a bad move; her words touched a nerve. Madhav leaned forward, roughly grabbed Meera’s chin and bit her lips so hard that she screamed. With a knock on the door, Madhav’s mother entered the room. ‘What happened?’ she asked, concerned.

Madhav immediately moved away from Meera and began fixing his hair. ‘Nothing, Aunty, we were just playing around, pinching each other,’ said Meera, to cover up what he had done.