Her Lost Prints

By Sakshi Gogia

More than just a love story, “Her Lost Prints” has a profound significance. With this narrative, Abhimanyu Madhvan pays a heartfelt tribute to his deceased and unloved wife, Hasrat Pran. The story includes various facets including motherhood and a troubled marriage. The story revolves around Hasrat and her child. Abhimanyu lives in a shade of remorse and guilt over parting a mother with her autistic and mute child. Abhimanyu and Hasrat’s intoxicated and unfinished love story is depicted in a perfect blend of fiction and intense drama.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blue Rose Publishers
• Release date: Dec 8, 2022

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Kishore da's magical enchantment permeated my house with joy, and I found myself humming along to his song as I cooked breakfast for my darling daughter, who despises cereal breakfasts, so I made her pancakes today.

I cleared up the kitchen counter and stepped out to see if she has finished her breakfast.

Good Girl! Now go get your shoes from your closet. We have to leave in fifteen minutes. My eyes gleamed when I noticed her dish was empty. Nothing makes you happier than seeing your child finish what you’ve put on their plates. So, yeah, I am in that stage of my life now.

I returned to the kitchen to turn off the radio, grabbed my tiffin box for the office.

I tucked her in the backseat of the car and drove over.

9:49 a.m. Seattle, July 29th. (Present).

Sorry Mr. Madhavan, you’re late, a blonde receptionist at The Great Seattle Hospital stated. Stephanie Harris reads the batch on her uniform. Your appointment was scheduled for 8.30 a.m. Dr. Avni is attending to another patient now. Do you want to reschedule your appointment for next Wednesday? Stephanie asked.

Next Wednesday will be too late. Any appointment for tomorrow? I inquired. Sorry, sir, no appointments until next Wednesday.

It’s OK. Dr. Avni is a close friend of mine. I will speak with her by myself. Thank you, Ms. Stephanie! I said.

6:30 p.m. 29th of July Seattle.

Phone buzzes…

"Hey, Abhi!" reads the first text.

"Sorry couldn’t take your call. Had a busy day at work. Back-to-back appointments. Yk." reads the next.

YK is an acronym for You know! in case you do not have yet caught this virus called Being Cool.

"Is everything okay? You didn’t show up today." reads another text from Avni or Dr. Avantika Iyer.

"Hi Avni," Yeah sorry. I got stuck at work today so got late for the session. I replied. Any appointment before this Saturday please?"

"Please don’t embarrass me, Abhi! You are welcome to visit anytime or maybe you can come over for lunch instead. My place 1 pm?" she replied.

3rd Antony Avenue. Marda Valley. Left to Shoprix She forwarded the address. "Thanks!" After an interval, I responded.

Great! Please don’t be late as always!" She responded with a series of smiling emoticons.

Avni is the only person I had known since I was a child. She was my neighbor, my classmate, and my best friend. She has been the greatest support to me. We have shared the most beautiful moments together. She had always been in my good and bad. We used to go to school together. Her father used to give me a ride to school and has always treated me like their own child. I know girls don’t like to be called fat but Avni was different. She loved herself, she had always been self-obsessed and had always been defensive about herself. Unlike other girls, she gave zero damn to her looks or her size. But being her best friend I have always been protective of her. I remember how horrendously she had been bullied in school because of her size. Nobody wanted to be around her because of the way she looked. They all used to bully her for being fat and uncool. But only I knew that there was a tiny little Avni, who was little, shy, and beautiful living inside of her. She was a scholar but had always hated school because of the obvious reasons. The only motivation for her coming to school was our after-school treat, her favorite pineapple pastries. We used to have pineapple pie every day after school. And so how can I forget to take her favorite pineapple pie for her? I made a pit stop to get some of her favorite treats from a top-notch local bakery.

I missed her when she was gone. She went to London after high school to study medicine. I knew she will make a stellar career and a great future for herself and will make her family proud as she comes from a big family of doctors, her father is one of the best cardiologists in the town. I never thought I would meet her after decades. Although, I knew that someday I will definitely meet her again but I didn’t know I will bump into her like this. Little did I always know that she had and will always be my best friend no matter how many years passed before we met. I wasn’t expecting her to appear as refined and sophisticated as she does the other day, though. For me, it's astonishing to see Avni, who used to dress in such baggy pants and cardigans, wearing a saree one day. She has grown into a stunning woman, and I haven’t been this happy in months.

Do you need anything else sir? the cashier at the bakery asked as he handed me the box of four large pineapple pies. He packed it in a beautiful yellow box and decorated it with a cute ribbon bow.

Emm.. Yes, One strawberry donut, please. Please do add some extra sprinklers to it! I ordered.

On the way to you sir! the cashier grinned and said. I collected my orders and handed the strawberry donut to my little princess and she jumped off as she opened the box and found her favorite treat in it. We drove straight to Avni from there. Throughout the journey, I talked with my daughter and warned her about the dos and don’ts, such as avoiding getting donut cream and ganache on her clothes or leaving the house alone, but she was absorbed in her treat and didn’t hear a word.

Avni’s residence was at a decent distance from our place and we were likely to reach there before the said lunchtime.

We arrived at Dr. Avantika's or Avni's house. Avni greeted us with open arms. We were served lasagnas by her.

Thank you so much for inviting us, Avni. The food is delicious. I initiated.

You’re welcome Abhi! It's wonderful to see you again after a long time. She smiled. So, how are you finding Seattle? And how's Dr. Iyer doing these days? I asked.

It's rather lovely, actually. I enjoy being in here but I do feel lonely sometimes and Varun is doing absolutely great. Next month, he’ll be relocating here. He has been quite supportive and I am thankful to have him in my life. He's literally dissolving everything there to move in here with me for my work. She said with pride.

Of course! I hope you have read the reports I mailed you last week, Avni," I asked after a pause.

Oh yes, yes! Let's finish lunch first, and then we’ll discuss about it, she suggested.

Finish it then and move on to the dessert. I’ve made pudding for you. Don’t tell your daddy! she whispered to my daughter as the two giggled.

At Avni's, we sat in the big hall. She brewed a cup of coffee for us and served with some cookies. She picked her mug and sat next to me as she put on her glasses and began reading the reports.

I met her three weeks ago in the city supermarket. She has recently moved to Seattle for work and is now working as a child psychiatrist at The Great Seattle Hospital. I felt as if god himself sent her to help me. We exchanged numbers, and I told her about my five years old daughter, who has speech difficulties. Yes, she is five- years -old and she can’t speak. I have not heard my daughter’s voice yet.

We tried to get medical help, but her doctors said she had been traumatized by something. Her medical reports were all clear, and nothing significant had been discovered. All of the reports are good. According to the specialists, who are working on her case, they have confirmed that her mutism is not a genetic trait. I found Avni when I was looking for a child psychiatrist for my daughter she appeared to be a ray of hope in our lives. She asked me if I can take my daughter to her hospital so that she can examine her. I planned everything but got late by a few minutes the other day.

I handed her the old reports one by one. She started studying all her reports in series. I brought her all of her reports from all of the sessions and tests we had done for her. I passed her Hasrat's medical reports also as she finished studying my daughter's.

Postpartum Psychosis! she shouted and jumped to her feet. Abhi…? She took off her glasses and gave me a puzzled look. Why didn’t tell me this earlier? she asked.

I couldn’t tell you earlier. I thought I’d tell you in person, I explained.

So, your wife committed suicide? she asked softly, making sure my daughter isn’t hearing her. I sighed, adjusting my chair to sit comfortably because I knew it was going to take a long. She waited for my response and returned back to the reports when she didn’t get any.

She bit her lower lip, rubbed her eyes, and gasped a few times. While I sat there patiently waiting for her to say something, I checked on my daughter, she was playing with her doll in the dining area.

She closed the files and looked at my daughter for a few minutes before turning to face me with a blank face. I’m sorry, Abhi, I didn’t know about all these things. She’d been through all of these treatments, tests, and trauma. And you all have been through a lot. She let out a sigh.

Will you please take up her case? I joined my hands and plead with her.

CHAPTER 2

She remained silent. Abhi! I think you should check with a few more medical professionals. It's a very sensitive case. If you want, I can recommend to you some renowned psychiatrists in America. You can check with them. Here, this is my senior, Doctor Yan’s contact number. She is an expert of cases like this, I am sure she will be a help to you. She said as she handed me a paper slip with Doctor Yan’s number on it.

I have already consulted the best psychiatrists in America, Avni. They all have challenged their expertise and failed because there is nothing they have found in her medical records. Some of them have asked me to wait and pray for her to utter her first word and other have asked me to lose faith and accept that I will never be able to listen to my daughter’s voice in life. Do you have any idea how difficult it is for a parent of not being able to listen to their own child’s voice? I have never heard my daughter’s laughter or her cry. It is very easy for them to preach me to accept her like that but I cannot give upon her. Not now, not ever. I shouted in outrage.

Avni being the best listener, kept on listening. She put her one hand on my shoulder and held my hand with her to soothe me with the other and said, I understand Abhi!.

No you don’t, Avni! You wouldn’t have advised me to go to another doctor otherwise. I said softly.

She took her hands off my shoulder and sat back.

I realized I had been harsh on her. So, I broke the silence and initiate, According to the doctors, her mutism is caused by a trauma.. Also, Avni, I don’t trust these doctors anymore. She had seen more hospitals than playgrounds in her life and that is not fair to her. I can’t make her go under another series of medical tests and therapies. Under another treatment, another torture on my little girl.

I can’t see her like this Avni. She's all I have. Please take up her case? I know you, I know you can do this. Only you can do this. She needs you, we need you! I requested.

She likes you and she will be more comfortable with you than any senior or most experienced doctors of your. Remember when we met in the parking lot of the supermarket, you said that ‘the kids have the ability which we grownups don’t. They sense the vibe.’ And I think she felt yours. She trusts you. I added.

I know Abhi, but I don’t think I’m capable of taking an extremely sensitive case like this. She concluded.

After a long pause.

Hmm! I sighed. It's okay, I understand Avni! It was great to see you after such a long time. Thank you for having us here and for the lunch of course!" I said piteously.

I am so sorry, Abhi. I really wish I could help you. She said in a low voice. She felt bad but she was not at fault.

It's alright! I stood up and prepared to leave. I took my daughter, grabbed my car keys, and reached the door way. Here's my card, Avni. It has my address on it, in case you change your mind, and thank you again for the delicious lunch. I said goodbye and drove back home.

I went to work after dropping my daughter at home with Mariyam ji. Mariyam ji is our full time care taker, but she is more like a family member to us. She first looked after Amma, then Hasrat (my wife), and now she looks after my house and my daughter.

I kept staring at my phone, hoping to receive a text from Avni.

I kept my phone on and checked it in every five minutes to see if I have received any messages or calls from her, but I had tough luck. Avni has been my best friend but I still couldn’t pressure her. After pretending to be busy at work I asked my assistant to cancel my meetings for the day since I could barely concentrate.

Evening at 6 o’clock I