Dr. Rasbala was puzzled. In her twenty-one-year career, she had never encountered a case like this. Not in India, nor in Jamaica, where she had practiced for seven years due to her husband's posting. Never before had she spent nearly four hours in a single session with any patient. And now, after spending four hours alone with this handsome young man, her confusion was whether to consider him a "patient" or not. ...No, he is not a patient; he can't be! During the four-hour interrogation with the young man, she had called Dr. Sonali at least nine times. Dr. Sonali was her batchmate and had actually referred the case to her. Sonali had examined the boy four or five times before sending him to the psychiatric Dr. Rasbala.
Dr. Sonali had only charged the boy once, fearing that he might think that a racket of doctors was exploiting his pain to make money. Later, she even considered refunding that fee, but that would have raised suspicions in the boy’s mind. So, she told Rasbala everything and sent the boy to her.
The boy's name was Saurabh. Before coming to Dr. Sonali, he had been going to the gym for about two months. This gym was within the premises of Sonali's nursing home and was run by her husband.
When Saurabh joined the gym, everything went smoothly for the first two weeks. Like other boys of his age, Saurabh gathered information about the equipment and started practicing. But gradually, the gym owner, who was also the coach, noticed that Saurabh was not exercising like the other boys. His focus was only on exercises that would build his chest. Saurabh was working in some company, married, and used to come to the gym on his bike after office hours. He was about twenty-four years old. The coach thought that maybe the boy wanted to join the army or the police, which is why he was keen on chest improvement. The coach once told him, "Strong calves and thighs are also essential for running; you should pay attention to them too, or else you will have unbalanced growth."
Saurabh didn't respond to his advice and continued with his practice.
But one day, the boy who massaged in the gym informed the owner that Saurabh insisted on using ladies' cream for his massage. The coach was alarmed. He found out that Saurabh had bought the expensive women’s cream himself. The coach sent Saurabh to his doctor wife, Sonali, once, who, after learning about Saurabh's desire, started hormone treatment for him. She explained to Saurabh that sometimes, due to hormonal imbalances in boys, feminine looks and desires start to appear, and that's why he should take injections and medicines to strengthen his body. But when Dr. Sonali found out that Saurabh actually wanted to enlarge his chest like a woman’s, she was stunned.
She gave Saurabh the medicines and injections for chest enlargement but felt uneasy about it. After all, she was a doctor. She felt that the responsibility of her profession was far greater than this. She had no right to deliberately save a patient from one illness only to push him towards another. She once tried to explain to Saurabh that he should not play with his personality like this. He was a well-built, healthy young man from a respectable family. Why would he want to enlarge his chest like a woman's? When boys build their chests, they focus on the strength and health of their entire body so they can join the army, police, or security services. A 36-inch chest looks good when it is built in a manly way. The whole body looks strong and healthy.
Dr. Sonali said, "Do you know how embarrassed those boys are who, due to hormonal disorders, develop chests like women? They try to hide it with tight clothes."
Saurabh said nothing. But he didn’t show any sign that he understood the doctor's point and agreed with her. The doctor, deep down, considered it a curse of nature. She remembered how a police officer gradually started dressing and behaving like a woman. Who can understand the strange ways of the body?
Finally, she sent Saurabh to the experienced psychiatrist, Dr. Rasbala. She didn't want to carry the guilt in her heart that she had knowingly allowed a young man to go down the path of a sick mentality.
Dr. Rasbala was surprised to learn that Saurabh still lived with his parents and had a little daughter about a year and a half old. As soon as she asked about his wife, Saurabh suddenly fell silent, and Dr. Rasbala noticed his eyes glistening like a wet diamond.
"Is she no more... is she not alive anymore?" the doctor asked.
"....."
"Yes, yes, speak up."
"She died in an accident last year. My parents want me to remarry, but I want to raise my daughter," Saurabh said.
"Then listen to your parents; they are right."
"But I haven't given my daughter anything fake or inferior. If I can’t give her a real mother, my late wife will never forgive me."
Dr. Rasbala said, "But there are other ways. You don't have to get married; you can raise your daughter. Educate her... But why do you want to change your personality... It’s strange!"
"You don't know, doctor. My daughter sleeps beside me at night. When she lovingly places her hand on my chest in her sleep, I feel like I am in heaven, but..."
"But what?" Dr. Rasbala asked.
"But sometimes, she suddenly wakes up startled, terrified. Maybe when she places her hand on my chest, she realizes that her mother is not with her. She gets scared and even in her sleep, she moves away from me... I want to create a 'hormonal fencing' in her mind for her future... a protective boundary, where she feels safe... secure!"
Dr. Rasbala got up from her seat, hugged Saurabh, and turned her face to the other side, wiping her eyes with a handkerchief.
When Saurabh quickly opened the cabin door and walked out, the doctor’s assistant, sitting outside, was shocked to see that the patient had left without paying even after four hours of treatment. And the doctor hadn't turned on the blue light, which she always used as a signal to collect the fees.
* * *
