Philophobia

THREE

"Sir, may I send the next patient?" The receptionist asked with her voice full of respect.

He, who was reading something important on the screen of laptop ahead, lifted his eye brows upward and this gesture made a few wrinkles on his broad forehead.

"Yeah, send them". Placing the receiver again on the cradle he inhaled a deep breath and covered the papers in brown file. Sitting on his chair he gulped a few sips of water and cleared his throat.

The silence in the room was soon pierced when the door was touched with the knuckles and then the wrist watch, probably. He looked at the embossed patterns on the dark brown piece of wood and then in loud, husky voice he allowed. The door slowly opened with an airy sound and the glass walls made themselves identifiable. A narrow bluish piece of cloth created hindrance between him and the face of the lady who was wearing it and made its way through the threshold of his office. He rested his arms on the giant table and a corner of his lips twitched upwards with a slight display of smile.

Soon an elderly man with a girl of twenty four entered the room. Standing up for the man he pulled his chair back and walked to him.

"AssalamoAlaikum." Shaking his right hand with that of wrinkled skin he said and looked at the girl with him and within the thousandth part of the second shifted his gaze to the man.

"Walaikum Assalam, young man." Baba replied with warmth travelling through his body and the grip on his hand tightening.

"Have a seat please." Taking a chair out Irtiza made him sit comfortably while the lady just witnessed him doing all the movements with her shoes clicking the laminated floor.

A small unnoticeable curve appeared on her beautiful lips when he lifted his eyes to her face making demand for space as he had to go to his seat. She took a few steps back and pulled another chair beside Baba and placed her handbag on the floor.

"How was your day, Sir?" Sataish heard him saying to Baba while setting the creases of her coat.

"Oh! What you have just asked, young man? A young man can never judge the demands of this old age." Baba chuckled lightly and crossed his arms on his chest.

"I am old at heart, trust me." Irtiza responded wittily.

"But sporting an old soul in a young body is difficult. Enjoy your age, man. This time will never come again." Baba sighed.

She kept looking at her father and thought of the regrets moving in his mind.

"I guess it is getting way too much formal. So no more Sir now, Uncle." Tapping the fingers against his hands Irtiza said.

"Why not? I feel good now and that anxiety of visiting an old age, mad psychiatrist has vanished. We better play golf right now!" Baba was enjoying.

"Okay. Let's go. I am ready to lose already." He controlled his abrupt laugh.

Smiling at this statement she tried to control the file slipping from her lap and the sharp beam of sunlight made her blind for a while.

"Ma'am, can you please sit there?" Irtiza asked her and her ears refused to hear.

"Sataish, this old man is asking something." Baba made retrieve her senses.

She looked at the psychiatrist who did not resemble a single inch to that grey haired, trembling one with arrogance pouring from his tone she had to visit during her college project. Irtiza repeated his question and she looked at the Baba who nodded in approval.

"You can have some good reads there." Pointing his long thick finger towards the glass wall on the other side of the room, from where the beams of sunlight were making their entrance in the chilled atmosphere, Irtiza said.