Shrinking Hope near Innsbrucker Platz

Somewhere near Innsbrucker Platz, I am in a courtyard crowded with greenery. I press the buzzer at the main entrance and announce my name. The door clicks open.


The interior matches well with the neo-Gothic exterior. The moulding stone walls, in desperate need for renovation, seem to be ready for overhanging ghouls in each corner and crevice. I expect the door to creak open but it is well-oiled. But, the staircase fits the scene. Each groaning complaining step is amplified by echoes.


I whisper “Hi there” and the echo says “Hullo”. I look up to see the source, a smiling face of an octogenarian of indeterminate sex about two flights above me. A slow climb takes me to that person, cloaked in heavy woolen, standing sideways on those steps, breathing heavily. I could not make out if ‘it’ was going up or down; or when ‘its’ journey had begun. I continue climbing leaving behind the creepy smiling physiognomy.


While I climb, let me tell you why I am here; or, at least, how.


Yesterday, at a traffic light, I met my hypochondriac pal-acquaintance-colleague-whatever John. He greeted me with a melancholic “Yow” and I reciprocated with a hearty “Hi”. He asked with a sadistic tone, “Howz life?” I replied truthfully, “Staying alive.”


Then, John took a card from his wallet and told me, “my shrink, meet him”. Without another word, he crossed the road giving scant respect to the traffic light. When John reached the other side of the road, he turned and with a downcast dopey-eyed stare, his bass voice uttered in a staccato fashion, “There...Watch...Your...Step...”


So, ‘there’ I am. With no affliction or affection to brag about, I wonder if I will be good company for a shrink.


Five flights of steps conquered, with tobacco ravaged lungs doing hiccups, I reach the single door on that level (white, new and slightly open) with no bell or peep-hole waiting for me to enter.


This door creaks open and as soon as I stepped inside, it recoils back noiselessly and I hear locks being sprung.


I am in a massive dark hall. I can see a gas lamp on a table at the far end and a downturned head. I tread softly on the uncarpeted wooden floor. With every step, the shadows dance more vigorously.


When I reach the table, the ‘head’ reveals a blonde with dark eyes and lush pouting lips. She says, “Ah, you are here. Let me take you to the doctor.”


She took the lamp and led the way to a narrow and steep spiral staircase. Cream chiffon blouse that seems to be draped rather than worn, a cleavage that never ends, blue jeans tight against wide hips and those legs...I nearly tripped. John’s voice whispered in my head, “Watch your step.”


After 47 steps, I reach a room at the top...a room? Well, it is bigger than a closet with space enough for a table, a chair behind it with its back towards me and a dentist’s reclining seat by the side of the table with a sticker which said ‘Dr Shilly - Dentist.’


I exclaimed to the angel, “Oh! There’s a mistake. I am here to meet Dr Keller, the psychologist.”


The angel gestured at the chair where a large bulk of mass quivered. The angel left. The mass boomed, “I am Keller.” The mass rose to six and half feet, three or so in width and plenty in depth. The boom continued, “Swapped couches with my friend Dr Shilly.” I was shown that seat. He settled down in his chair facing me with a familiar creepy smile.


Dr: What’s up?
Me: Up?
Dr: Excellent...continue...
Me: I don’t know where to start. A week back...
Dr: The further back the better.
Me: It will cost more, won’t it?
Dr: You could talk faster.
Me: For three days, starting last Monday, I was friendly at work. It was really strange...a girl even told me that I am nice...
Dr: Is that girl barmy?
Me: I could be nice, right?
Dr: Frustrations rise when reality clashes with fantasy.
Me: I get the point.
Dr: Anyway, lot of nice people end up here. Good, you are now receptive. Continue.
Me: Last Thursday, I went to a cake shop and got a slice of Black Forest pastry. After the first bite, memories hit me hard and I cried.
Dr: Some other place, some other time, a cherished moment with someone?
Me: Yes.
Dr: Did you finish the pastry?
Me: Yes.
Dr: Why?
Me: It cost me 2.50 Euro.
Dr: Then...?
Me: That same day, I went to a Chinese restaurant for dinner. Ordered steamed fish. Again, I cried.
Dr: Another person, another place, another time?
Me: A fish bone got caught in my throat.
Dr: Ah! A pen is sometimes just a pen, so said Freud.
Me: Two days back, in a U-Bahn, I was watching a family. A ponytailed father with religious tattoos on his arms; a mother in a purdah and chewing gum; and two kid daughters, the only ones who talked.”
Dr: How do you know she was chewing gum if she was wearing purdah?
Me: I could hear.
Dr: Ah...continue...
Me: The father sat with his head in his hands, looking down, as if he was suffering from migraine or a bad hangover. Two sexy girls entered. He did not notice.
Dr: Were you looking at him or the girls?
Me: At him.
Dr: Serious...continue...
Me: Later that day, in a mall, I saw an elderly couple touch each other fondly.
Dr: And, you want to reach that stage, I suppose...
Me: Yes.
Dr: Without the intermediate...?
Me: Well, I don’t mind if my wife chews cud. But if my senses go dead, what will I do?
Dr: Start chewing gum, stay married, lots of things. What else?
Me: I am feeling hopeless.
Dr: Do you have a job?
Me: Yes.
Dr: Family?
Me: Yes. Wife.
Dr: Kids?
Me: En route.
Dr: Happily married?
Me: Married happily.
Dr: Why are you feeling hopeless?
Me: That girl who told me that I am nice, she also said that I am hopeless.
Dr: Clever one.
Me: I thought you said that she is barmy.
Dr: Anything else?
Me: No.
Dr: Sure...?
Me: My wallet is.
Dr: Good. Come again.
Me: Doc, how do you get down that staircase?
Dr: I don’t. That’s for patients. I take the lift.


With that, I left him, paid at the angel’s desk, met the octogenarian at the same place, and got out of the building.


At a nearby traffic light, I met my cheerful pal-acquaintance-colleague-whatever Pierre. I greeted him half-heartedly “YooHoo”. He chirped, “HooYoo”. I taunted, “How’s life?” He let out a sigh.


I took the card from my wallet and told him, “my shrink, meet him”. After crossing the road, I shouted “There...Watch...Your...Step...”


I felt lighter, happier and even hopeful.