In the midst of an early October breeze somewhere in the outskirts of the city of Bombay, a middle-aged man hastily inhaled the rest of his tall cigarette while barely able to glance at the newspaper, “Psychologist strangled to death. Tapes and Patient at Large!” He thought to himself that it was an unfortunate coincidence and proceeded to set up inside one of the rooms. Turning on his tape recorder, the man proceeded to check his microphones. The tape started recording his session, “October 12, 1980. The subject name is Tulshiram Motwani, charged with one count of attempted murder by the Bandra Police. For the official record, my name is Dr. Saket Ram, PhD appointed as the mandated forensic psychologist for the convicted, by the honorable High Court to determine if the accused is fit for trial.”
The subject, Tulshiram was escorted into the room by the guard in a straightjacket. The fabric of the standard government issued straightjacket was worn out and could be easily ripped by even a toddler. For some reason, the subject played along to the charade that the jacket was effective in restraining him.
The doctor proceeded with the session, “Kindly state your full name, father’s name, date of birth and age for the record please.” Turning on the recorder, the tapes started revolving around its axis, the subject started his response, “My name is Tulshiram Motwani, son of Sadashiv Motwani. My date of birth is June 13, 1945 and I think that puts my age at 35.”
The doctor upon looking over the charge sheet, “Are you aware of the charges filed against you?”
The subject shuttered with fear, “Yes.”
“Well, were you in charge of your actions, Mr. Motwani?” asked the Doctor who was searching for the slightest of tells in the face of the accused.
Sounding genuine, he replied “I am not insane. You can call me Ram. My mother and Siya used to call me only by Ram.”
“Is this Siya, your ex-wife as stated in your charge sheet?” asked the Doctor.
Ram jumped on to the question, “Siya was the love of my life. I haven’t seen her since the divorce. Please let me go!”
The Doctor leaned into his microphone, “The subject sounds agitated while mentioning about his ex-wife and his mother. To be further explored…”
Ram asked the Doctor, “Why are you talking to yourself?”
The Doctor with the smile replied, “My notes form part of the official record. My observations are integral to this investigation.”
“So, I have to be extra careful on what I talk to you huh?” Ram asked with a smirk on his face.
“The subject sounds intelligent in his responses…” the Doctor stated, but before he could finish his sentence, he noticed that Ram had started sniffing something from across the table.
“I couldn’t help but notice the ash on your shoes and the smoke smell on you. Can I have a drag? It has been a while…” asked Ram much to the surprise of the Doctor.
“Maybe a little too intelligent…” the Doctor finished his sentence, only for Ram to interrupt, “I won’t describe myself as intelligent. I am just observant like the old man.”
“And who is this old man? Your father?” asked the Doctor who noticed that the accused’s face turned even more agitated at the mention of his father.
The room was filled with silence for the first time during the conversation. After waiting for a couple of minutes, the Doctor proceeded, “Ram, how would you describe your relationship with your father?”
“I would rather not talk about it.” Ram replied. The Doctor noticed that Ram has hesitant to look at him while answering to the question.
“Do you remember the statement you gave the Police during interrogation?” asked the Doctor.
“No…” replied Ram who was a bit restless, was moving within his chair back and forth. The old heap of wood and dust was ready to give out.
“If you want, I could read from the transcripts, the Inspector asked you why you tried to kill your ex-wife for which you replied, ‘I didn’t try to kill her. Why would I hurt the woman whom I love? It was my father who tried to kill her.’ So, tell me why do you think that your father attempted to kill your wife?”
The calm and docile voice of Ram’s voice suddenly turned deep and rugged, “Because I did try to kill her. She always me reminded too much of his vile mother. Hope she rots in hell!”
The Doctor surprised with the confession, asked “So you do admit to attempting to kill your wife, Ram?”
“My name is Sadashiv. Not Ram! Open your eyes, you moron!” replied Ram whose entire demeanour changed in a few minutes.
The Doctor confused asked Ram again the first question which was recorded at the beginning, “Can you please state your name and age for the record again please?”
“Sadashiv Motwani, aged 65.” Replied Ram, much to the bafflement of the learned doctor whose initial suspicions about the prognosis of the accused Tulshiram might be true.
“Let the record reflect that I suspect that the subject shows signs of DID, one of whose alter-egos known to be extremely violent.”
“DID? What does that mean? Let me go!” shouted Ram, as he tried to get rid of the jacket that he was wearing. Unlike the physically fit man that he was, Ram found it difficult to free himself from the half torn straight-jacket.
The Doctor continued his observations on the record, “Unlike the physical traits and capabilities of Tulshiram, one of the alter-egos, allegedly, the subject’s father is unable to tear off what is remaining of the constraints. Surely a man aged thirty-two with no known previous physical ailments should easily break it off. This offers further credibility about the disassociation between the two distinct personalities.”
“Hey, I asked you a question! Answer me, boy!” shouted the accused Ram whose face huffed and puffed with a vicious look. Breathing heavily through the mouth much like an old man at the end of a loud tantrum, Ram gasped for a little water. After feeding him some water, the Doctor prodded, “Did you attack Siya and nearly choke her to death?”
“I am not answering your question until you answer mine first!” replied Ram, before maintaining his stand.
The Doctor obliged, “I’m sorry. DID stands for Dissociative Personality Disorder. If you don’t mind, I want to be the one who asks the questions here.”
“If I answer, would you let me go? How did you bound me in the first place? What is this place?” asked Ram, who seemed unaware of the fact that he was arrested.
“Maybe. Depends on your cooperation.” answered the Doctor who had already come to terms that this session was the first of many more to come. Dissociative Identity Disorder which was rare within the Indian nationals made the Doctor uncertain on whether or not Ram was misleading him into believe that he was not of a sound mind.
Persisting with the deep voice, “What do you want from me?”
“Tell me about your family.” Asked the Doctor as he had a hunch that it might open up the channels that would lead to uncovering the suppressed facts.
“Where do I even begin? I served in the Army till ’45 until I got shot in one of my legs. Gangrene ate most of my right leg. Three months later, I come back home with one leg short. No one would hire me for anything. I got married to a basic bitch. We lived pretty much in poverty. Soon Ram was born. If there’s anything my father taught me, it is to keep your womenfolk in line…”
The doctor interrupted, “What happened to your wife?”
The man replied with a grin on his face like he had accomplished something, “I needed to drink, all I had to sell were my prosthetic leg and my wife. You do the math!”
The Doctor in a moment of disbelief, paused the tape for a minute and to regain his cool and to keep the human within himself at bay. Pressing the record button, the doctor persisted on the topic, “How old was Ram when you... Ahem, sold your wife? How would you describe your relationship between you and your son after this…? Not sure whether or not to call this as a barter.”
“I did not sell her! She wouldn’t go through it! So, I made sure that I had one less mouth to feed.”
“How did you make sure of it? Did you kill her?” asked the Doctor who realized that he was dealing with a diabolical homicidal maniac. What started as a simple interview, had turned out to be an outlet for the buried demons to come out and play.
Ram gave an evil smile by barely lifting his head and started pacing inside the room. To the astonishment of the Doctor, Ram walked like an old man with just one leg. Even the wisest of the world’s psychologists who were cynical of the multiple personality theory cannot justify the attention to detail that the Doctor witnessed and it was not humanly possible to debunk the entire ordeal as a gimmick. The Doctor confused, agitated and anxious to learn the truth about Ram’s long-lost mother grabbed Ram by the collar and dragged in front of the dusty mirror filled with cobwebs and scratched on it.
The reputed doctor lost his cool and asked him while still clinging on to his collar, “When was the last time you saw your son?”
Ram shouted back, “Almost twenty years ago or shall I say ten years after my wife disappeared!”
The Doctor asked another question, “How do you think he would look like now?”
Ram confused and exhausted stopped struggling. Finally, he replied, “If he is anything like me, he would be fair, average built and partially bald.”
The doctor turned to his left and wiped the dust off the old mirror and made Ram look at himself. The doctor continued his provocation, “Wouldn’t you call this person as fair, average built and partially bald? Why did you kill your wife, you monster?”
Dazed from looking at himself with disbelief, Ram proceeded to bang his head on to the glass continuously before being pulled out and made to sit back in the chair by the Doctor while laughing hysterically and eventually bursting into tears before passing out.
The Doctor realizing that the violent episode was not captured on his recorder started narrating the events for the official record and eventually concluding, “The subject, Tulshiram Motwani, in my expert opinion is unfit to stand trial. The actions of the personality mimicking the fugitive father comes out in brief moments. The subject needs medication and not solitary confinement. If left untreated, the alter-ego might prove fatal to the subject.”
At that moment, the passed out subject interrupted in an unfamiliar voice that did not come out during the entirety of the conversation, though the pitch of the voice seemed flat, its aura proved to be sinister and just enough to overtake the voice of Sadashiv, “That question that you asked near the mirror was the same one that I asked almost twenty years ago…”
“Who is this?” asked the Doctor as he could understand that he uncovered yet another personality within the disturbed man.
“Me? I don’t have a name. Last time I appeared was when I couldn’t stand to see Ram being abused by his crippled good for nothing psycho of a father. I tend to think of myself as the personification of death.”
“Were you the one who killed Ram’s mother?” asked the Doctor, as he couldn’t rule out the possibility that an alter-ego inside a five-year old would not be capable of murdering his own mother.
“No, I would never knowingly hurt Ram and all I did was do him the biggest favour of his life. I will always protect him.” Replied the weird voice coming out of the even weirder subject.
The Doctor on a hunch persisted, “Okay, let me ask you this. Were you responsible in making Ram’s father disappear?”
Laughing hysterically as usual to the question, “Who said I disappeared? All that bastard did was throw me into the overflowing river. I’m pretty sure that Ram made that guy do it. The man who pushed me was some thing that I have never seen before in my life.” Replied Ram echoing the voice of his deceased father as it was near impossible for a man with one leg to withstand the heavy currents of water. He shouted one last time, “I never should have told Ram that I buried his mother under our home!”
The Doctor clicking the pause button on the recorder had enough of this session that almost drained him of life. Dazed over reality, he took out a cigarette and proceeded to smoke. Realizing that the now exhausted Ram had passed out, he sprinkled some water over the face of the subject. Waking out unexpectedly, the subject started muffling as if a cloth had been pushed up inside in his mouth and started rocking the chair like a bound person.
“Let’s make sure that we got everything on the record” the Doctor said before rewinding the tape and play it for the subject.
“…Were you in charge of your actions...?”
“Yes, I am aware.”
“Mmff……”
The Doctor wondered, “That’s odd. I don’t remember anyone of us grumbling. Sounds exactly like the sound that you made before I hit rewind!”
The doctor proceeded to fast-forward the rest of the tape,
“…So, you do admit to attempting to kill your wife, Mr Ram?”
“…Open your eyes, you moron!”
“Mmfffff…!!!”
Upon hearing the weird sound again, the Doctor wanted to affirm his suspicions one last time.
“…the subject…is unfit…might prove fatal to the subject…”
Confirming that no weird noise was recorded, the Doctor pressed pause to grab another cigarette. However, in the midst of his unnerving urges to reach for the cigarette in this bag, he accidentally presses play.
“I would never knowingly hurt Ram…responsible in making Ram’s father disappear…Who said I disappeared?... Siya is the love of my life…Ram…Ram…!”
Much to his disbelief, all the voices in the tape including his own voice, sounded the same. Unable to play a different portion nor able to stop the stuck tape from playing those voices again and again, started screaming with closing his ears and his eyes shut completely. Moments later when he opened up his eyes, he noticed that a young woman with her head busted upon gagged and bound on the chair where Ram sat. Looking around the room, he noticed that the room resembled the pictures taken at Ram’s bedroom where he assaulted his wife.
Confused and dazed, he stumbled upon a mirror very much alike the dirty old mirror and looked shocked to his core. The recorder started playing all of a sudden, “…fair, average built and partially bald…”
The Doctor walked towards the woman, removed her gag. Upon seeing her ex-husband for the first time since the divorce, Siya started screaming for help. Walking around the room like a possessed person, the Doctor noticed the headlines on a newspaper, “Psychologist strangled to death. Tapes and Patient at Large!”
The personality of the Doctor though lost in its own mortal body, was doomed to be trapped in the body of the subject or rather than the victim in his unfortunate story. The voice of death staying true to its word to lay feast on those who hurt Ram in his flat sinister voice leaned over the microphone, “Session…to be continued…” before setting his eyes on Siya. The black skies of the night were filled with the screams of a woman who did nothing wrong.

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