But fate had another path laid out for Madhav.

3

Tanmay found out about Madhav’s deteriorating condition through Meera. She told him about the outburst at the party and what happened at Dr Batra’s clinic.

Sometimes, people make a significant difference to our life in unexpected ways. Tanmay did his last bit before leaving for Germany by telling Meera about an art workshop. Called Art from the Heart, it was run by a foundation for which Tanmay had volunteered. ‘Art therapy is a form of expressive therapy that uses the creative process of making art to explore our suppressed emotions,’ explained Tanmay.

Meera thought this might help Madhav articulate his emotions better, so she planned to take him there. She decided she would tell him that it was just a run-of-the-mill art exhibition.

Madhav was on the couch, staring at his laptop blankly, as usual, when she called him.

‘Hey, Meera!’

‘Hey, how’re you doing? Are you free to talk?’ she asked.

‘I’m in Sri Lanka now for a conference,’ he replied.

‘Stop it, Madhav!’ Meera said, cautiously.

‘Okay, tell me! My head is aching pretty badly.’

‘I want you to come with me somewhere tomorrow. There’s an exhibition by this artist called Radhika Kapoor. Say you’ll come, please. It will be fun.’ Her words tumbled over each other.

‘An art exhibition? Are you serious?’ he asked.

‘Yes, I am damn serious,’ replied Meera.

‘That name sounds vaguely familiar though . . . Radhika Kapoor,’ he said, scratching his head. Meera wondered if Madhav actually knew who she was and said, ‘Oh! She’s the founder of the Art from the Heart foundation.’ Madhav immediately conjured up an image of Radhika Kapoor as a married, old woman who always smelt of heavily perfumed incense.

‘I also wanted to ask you if I could use your latest blog post for my next project presentation.’ Meera reverted to her selfish tone.

‘Yeah, sure.’ He couldn’t care less.

‘You are so sweet, Madhav! We’ll talk later then. I am texting you the coordinator’s number. Please register our names for the exhibition,’ she said before she hung up.

Madhav was a little annoyed at the way she had spoken. He hesitated before calling the number she had sent him, but finally decided to go ahead. The caller tune was a religious song.

‘Heelloo.’ The man on the other end drew out the vowels of his greeting.

‘Hi, is this Suresh?’ Madhav asked.

‘Yees,’ Suresh drawled.

‘My friend, Meera, and I would like to attend the art exhibition tomorrow. How do we register?’ Madhav asked.

‘Exhibition?’ Suresh seemed perplexed. ‘This is an art therapy workshop.’

‘Art therapy?’ Madhav was confounded by this information.

‘Yes. We will be exhibiting your paintings, though. Are you the patient or is it Ms Meera?’

‘What are you talking about?’ Madhav sounded annoyed.

‘How about I register you both?’ asked Suresh. ‘Greetings from Art from the Heart.’

Within five minutes, Madhav received details of the venue and a request to reach the premises by noon, a time when he was usually hung-over. So he decided not to drink that night, or to maybe drink a little less than usual.