A Tainted Secret

By THARUN CHELLEY

Michael is an average man in an average world. He has never had anything special happen in his life; however, he is happy with the situation he is in. Nonetheless, there is a series of events that leads to a moment that would shake his life forever. He is unable to be the same person he once was around the people he once called his close ones. A situation which leads him to seek therapy and have to try to improve his social situation. The culmination of events that take place in the English city of Leicester creates a gut-wrenching thrill, seen through the eyes of Michael himself. He is thrown by what he discovers, raising him to ask the question, did he really want to know?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Nov 21, 2013
• ISBN: 9781490714240

THARUN CHELLEY

My name is Tharun Chelley. I was born in Leicester in England on January 23, 1991. I have had a variety of jobs; however, nothing captivated me more than writing. Coming from a British Asian Indian family, I have seen many different things that people enjoy and the things that make them cry, which is something I always wanted to bring to life through writing. The idea of taking my own imagination and bringing it to life. However, at the age of twenty-one, I was unfortunate to be diagnosed with depression. I, therefore, used writing to be able to find my own voice and imagination, leading me to eventually be cured of my depression.

Book preview

Chapter 1

T here is not a day that goes by when I do not stop and reflect on the events of that day. The look of the people who I hold closest to me, picturing their faces as the secret of the events that were being unveiled came to light. Just the mere thought of it is enough even to this day, almost a year after what had happened, make my skin crease like a scrunched piece of old paper. I try to quit smoking, however I feel that I smoke more than ever since. I am undergoing therapy as a result of the events that came to pass. The sessions are doing a good job for me because I will always need somebody to talk to. There is not a person on the planet that does not need someone to talk to when it comes to times of need. I feel that even to this day, I find it hard to let out the words that are clogging themselves up in my mind. The feeling of broken pieces of glass, piercing through my skull and engulfing my eyeballs is enough to keep me awake every night.

Well I’ve had about two therapy sessions at the moment and that was to discuss how I am feeling at the moment. How my anxiety is affecting my everyday life. However, I do feel that this next session will be something big and bold. This session, my therapist said that we will be discussing the events of a few years ago, discussing what really happened on that day.

I wait for what seems like hours for the therapist to come and collect me while sitting patiently in the clinic. I look over and see some old pensioners, seems like they are here for their pills to help them walk towards the light that much easier. I look over and see some young little shit with his mother. He is giving her attitude, being some little rude boy. God I hate the little rude boys that walk around thinking that they are gangster. As an Asian myself, it annoys me seeing other Asians making such fools of themselves. All I can think at the day is fuck them, they’re not worth anything. I don’t know I guess they do have mothers. This one I’m looking at here has a mother and she seems to be quite a nice person. He looks like a little prick, no matter how sweet his mum seems.

As I’m sitting I scour through my phone, looking for any new messages. Blank, seems to be a relief really. I used to really care about people texting me and asking me how I am. Now days however, I really couldn’t give a shit, I mean life’s too short to be so concerned about what a person thinks about in terms of the way you feel. Nevertheless, it does seem that getting some attention, even if it’s bad attention is still good because any attention is good attention as it is at the end of the day, attention. The little nurse behind the counter calls my name and I believe it’s time to go in.

Mr Michael Deol The little receptionist calls from the other side of the counter. She looks pretty cute, someone who, if I wasn’t a happily married man wouldn’t mind having a little go at. I know it makes me sound like some pathetic, shallow worm, but at the end of the day, which guy has not thought to themselves ‘phwoar, check her out’. Any man who denies it is a liar, because we all do it, there’s no shame in it. I have been in love with my wife for several years and yes occasionally, I do look at the odd woman here and there. I’m not going home with them though, because if I wanted to be with them, then why would I be with my wife. As my mate Manish likes to say, ‘just because you’re on a diet, don’t mean you can’t look at the menu.’ Well I guess that is a pretty shallow way to look at things; however life is a shallow existence. Full of secrets and flaws, that when you find out the people you trusted the most happen to be people who you don’t even know, an existence that is not very fruitful. I walk towards the therapist office; I mean it’s a lot difficult now. I have had a limp for the past few months, mostly in my left leg. Still hurts when it’s cold.

I enter my therapist’s room. It’s a run of the mill doctor’s surgery room, with the usual doctors table in the corner and his desk in the near corner. I look at him and he stands to shake my hand as usual.

Michael how are you Dr Adam Wilkes asked me. Adam is a good guy, probably one of the very few. I know it may be his job to be as if he is somebody who gets me, however, I really do feel that he does. His charming manner allows me to relax and open up to him. That’s the strange thing about therapists, you don’t actually know them. To be honest when do you really find out anything about a therapist? However, at the same time they seem to know everything about you. You may go through your whole life never being able to talk to your parents, however, when it comes to a therapist, you can open up quite easily.

I’m good thank you how are you? I replied to Adam as I walked over to take a seat. He sits down comfortably in front of me behind his desk. He looks at me like a student, eager for answers to so many questions.

I’m fine thank you Adam replies. Right, first of all I would like you to fill in a sheet, just to see how you’re doing and if there are any changes from last time we met. Adam states to me. He slides a questionnaire in front of me and I look up and down it. I pick up a pen and begin the answer the multiple choices that I have in front of me. Questions about self harm and suicide are all over the worksheet. I try to answer as honest as I can, not stating for self harm or suicide; however, I do state that I do not have as much interest in things, due to how I have been feeling recently.

Ok I say as I finish the worksheet for him.

Thank you very much Adam says to me as he places the worksheet to one side. I take a sigh of relief, as if I have just sat an examination paper and now I’m awaiting the results. So how have you been these past few weeks? Adam asks me in a calm voice. I look up at him wanting to tell him that everything has been good, that I don’t need to come to these sessions any more. That’s not the truth now is it really? The truth is that I need these sessions more than anything and that I have not been feeling right for a long time now.

Not good I reply in a stutter I still have nightmares.

What sort of nightmares? Adam asks.

The kind that makes me not want to see anymore I reply in an emotional stutter. I look down and without even realising it; I am fiddling with my fingers.

What do you mean you do not want to see anymore? Adam asks me in an even calmer manner. I feel like breaking down, however, a part of me feels as if that would make me look foolish if I was to break down in front of him. I can even feel my eyes beginning to well up as I attempt more speech.

I feel that I do not want to see these images anymore. I begin saying, stuttering as a go along. I feel that I see these images in my head and I hear the voices and I want them to go away.

Do you know how these images and thoughts began Adam asks in his own concerned way. I look up at him and I know that he knows exactly why they started. He doesn’t even have to ask; nevertheless it is his job to ask questions. I know I would never talk about this unless I had somebody like him here to help me through it. He is like a rock to me now, so I want him to be happy with me being able to account everything that happened.

I do, yes I reply.

Would you like to talk about them? Adam asks me. His look of concern worries me in a slight way. I feel that if I tell him everything, he might think that I am so fucked up that I may not be able to think straight for a very long time. However, this is my challenge. I have to be able to fight through this. I brush through my hair which needs cutting now, Rhea, my wife, has been moaning at me for a while now to get it cut. I look up at Adam and I begin to fight through the barrier and unlock the padlock around my lips.

I believe I have to I answer in an unsure way.

Only if you feel comfortable with it Adam replies.

I want to I answer in a more sure way. However, I hope you have longer than this hour session, because this is going to be a long story I say in an attempt for a joking manner. Adam lets out a slight chuckle and looks at me in a reassuring way.

That is absolutely fine Adam responds, I have no other appointments for the rest of the day He takes out his pen and paper, which I know he is going to begin making notes on. Besides, we have plenty of sessions for you to tell me the whole story. I want you to tell me about before the event which changed everything up until after it happened, Adam states to me, looking at me in a sympathetic manner. I nod to him to show that I will comply with what he wants. Right then, he begins to say In your own time, He says.

Well, I begin in a hesitant way I think that in order to tell you the whole story, I think I have to start from the very beginning.

That’s fine, whatever makes you comfortable Adam answers.

Right then, I said in a ready for action manner Let’s start from the beginning.

Chapter 2

I f I remember back, the story really begins with my wedding day. I remember it now, the golden gazebo looking stand that I was sitting in, with lots of jewels all over the room. The suit I was wearing was typically Indian, which I never really enjoy wearing. They are so tight and make it so uneasy to move around. All I saw was what looked like thousands of women surrounding the gazebo in the mandir, all peering in and smiling as if this was to be the happiest day of their lives, let alone mine. My best man Manish sat on the other side of me; also with him being a Hindu himself I thought that he would understand these customs. However with his excuse always being that he was Hindu Punjabi and these were Guajarati’s so the customs were different, I would never have a chance to find out what was the actual custom.

I had a ceremonial Sikh sword with me, hanging down by my waist. As I am a Sikh I thought it would only be fitting for me to have at least a sword by my side and this really tight turban on my head. Of course there would be the stereotypical Sikh Punjabi reception after, resulting in the usual piss up and the inevitable fight.

I remain seated, only because the priest wanted me to stay right there. Personally all I wanted was to get up and walk around for a while. My legs were just killing me; I mean how these Hindu’s do it. There must be something in the blood that allows you to just sit down for long hours on end. Well at least it’s not like in our Sikh temples, which are Gurdwara’s, home of the free food and the sore bottoms. Now that is a skill, to be able to sit down on the floor in the prayer hall at a Gurdwara for hours on end and withstand not getting up, that is a skill. My dad and the older boys had it sussed, whenever it came to going to the Gurdwara, they would always take the wall. That way they had something to lean on, genius.

I looked over at my aunts and see them giving their fake smiles as per usual. Well I say they are my aunts, really their just my Grandma’s cronies, people who are not related to us by blood, however we say that they are related just so that they can suckle on the power teat. The only way for them to become a part of my family is to suck up to my grandma and brag about their children as if their shit doesn’t stink. Fake bitches, I know I might be coming across as a cynical arse; well it’s probably because after so many years of only seeing fake people who claim their relation, it really puts things into perspective. Overall I am a pretty happy person, a bit of a twat at times I gather but a pretty happy person overall.

I see my mum’s friends staring at me. They are really nice people, a little loud nonetheless, extremely nice people. A little strange that I slept with one of their daughters a few years ago, however that is all in the past and we can all move on. It is really hot in here; I can feel my palms drip with my own essence. Got to dry them off, got to look calm. I am pretty nervous, I mean what if when Rhea comes down here, she realises that she doesn’t love me anymore. She thinks that I am just some fool who writes stories for a living. No can’t think about that now got to focus on what is going to happen. I look over and see a woman with a low cut top. ‘Well hello there’ I think, no I can’t get distracted, I have to focus on what is going to happen right in front of me. I wonder what happened in the City game today, Ok in twenty seconds I’m leaving this room. Rhea will find someone else; I mean her family might want to hang me from the nearest lamppost, However she’ll find somebody else.

Are you ready My mum says to me as I’m about to explode out of my top. My god it is fucking boiling in here.

Yes I am ready I reply to her. You Billy bull shitter, you know you’re not ready. Just a few seconds ago you wanted to leave. Ok let’s focus, breathe, breathe you bastard breath.

She’s about to arrive the priest says. Suddenly mine and Rhea’s relatives lift a sheet in front of me. This is so that I do not see Rhea until she is seated. I mean what is the point in it; I know what she looks like. The lights go down and a man on a Dhol starts playing. I don’t mind the Dhol, but they always have the same tune every time they play it. It’s fun but come on, an electric guitar would be more up my avenue. Everybody starts to clap; I assume Rhea is walking down the stairway.

Sit up straight, don’t slouch My mum says to me. My dad lets out a slight chuckle as I lean back into my seat. I look at this huge precession, leading towards me like an avalanche of jewellery. Then silence as I assume Rhea has taken her seat. I stare at the sheet in front of me. It is a golden velvet sheet, with little golden patterns on it. It is a very nice sheet; really, I just want to see Rhea now. Staring at the sheet all I can do is imagine that Rhea is sitting right behind there. I still feel nervous, she hasn’t seen me yet and I can still make a run for it. Just through that door.

The priest says something in Sanskrit I believe and the sheet slowly comes down. Then, I see what I’ve been wanting to see all day, sitting right in front of me, in her gold tinted red sari. It’s her, its Rhea. Her eyes were always her most enchanting feature. I stare at them and she looks into mine, as if we are meant to know each other for the rest of our lives. Her makeup looks great; however no makeup can truly show how beautiful she is. Looking at her makes me so happy; it makes me want to gently cry to myself. This right here is the happiest moment of my life and all of those nerves and plans of escape from earlier, just feel stupid now. Why would I want to leave? Why would I not want to be here? I want to be here, right here, sitting and looking at the one true love of my life. I really do love her.

We stare at each other as if it is the first time we had seen each other in thousands of years. My throat is dry, I want to speak, however I cannot find words to say to the people around me how much I care for her. I feel tears begin to stream down my face and I see the same thing happening to her. It is a strange feeling because I do not feel sad or emotional, which is what I would assume is how somebody would feel when they are about to cry. I actually feel happy, a particular happiness which I have never felt before.

The priest begins doing some religious actions to keep the ceremony going. Now they decide to seat me and Rhea next to each other and gaze upon everybody as if we are two religious statues. Everybody is staring at us and I can even see in my dad’s eyes, that he is too well up with emotion. If anybody knows my dad, the great Narayan Singh, he is not a man for emotion. He is the kind of person who would laugh at a bollywood movie, just for the fact that there is too much dancing in it and not enough killing. However I can see through his concrete exterior that he is beginning to show the remnants of what could be argued to being a man. This is probably the first time that I feel my father is actually proud of me for something. I look up at him as he places his hand on my right shoulder. He gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze to let me know he’s there. We look at each other and no words are spoken, but we know. He feels at that very moment proud to be my father and at that moment I feel proud to be his son.

However, several hours have past and I am now getting rather restless. This ceremony just will not stop, now they have decided to take pictures with everybody. Cousins, friends, aunts, uncles, you name it; they all want a photo with the happy couple. I frankly am absolutely starving now and would really like to get to the reception. I really could do with a pint right about now. That’s right, I nice cool lager, I know my dad will laugh at me because the only beer in the world to him is Ale, but I’m only twenty-six, I have the rest of my life to be chugging down Ale.

The ceremony finally comes to an end and we can finally go. Ok I know it’s my wedding, however that was torture. That’s was near five hours I was sitting there. Just sitting and having to smile at people. I admit, watching all mine and Rhea’s relatives put money on my lap was a great experience, I’m not going to lie about that. However, my legs feel literally dead. Now, I can make my way to the reception and get ready for a nice party.

While sitting in the car on the way to the reception, I feel those nerves once again. I’m finding it hard to look at my wife, not because I don’t love her or anything like that. More because I feel that if I look at her I will just stare at her and not be able to stop staring at her. Or I’ll burst into tears and look like a complete pussy. Either way it will be a little creepy.

Are you ok babe? Rhea asks me as I stare out the window of the limo, looking at the different buildings that we are passing.

Yeah I’m fine why? I reply in an inquisition manner. Well I like to think it is, really I feel I’m sounding worried more than anything.

Just wondering Rhea begins Your pretty quiet at the moment, I was just wondering what you’re thinking, that’s all I look up at her and stare into those wonderful eyes of hers.

I was thinking that I love you I begin "I was thinking that I feel like the luckiest person in the world. I’m going to spend the rest of my life with somebody who I adore more than anything. I lean over and give her a quick kiss on the lips. We smile at each other, like two stars that have found each other in a blackened sky.

The car stops and the driver calls over to me to tell us that we have made it to our destination. I look over at Rhea and notice her clench onto my hand. The driver parks up the car and runs around like a man thrown into action. He opens the door closest to me. I peer over my left shoulder looking into the hall, seeing what a gateway to a new beginning, a gateway to a life of freedom and happiness.

You ready? I ask her, while holding onto her hand. We stare at each other one more time, looking into each other with smiles just painted all over our faces.

One second Rhea replies to me. She then leans over and kisses me right on the lips and smiles at me once more. Ok, Ready She says to me in an excited whisper. I smile back and leave the car. I stand helping her out of the car, looking over at the entrance to the hall. I gaze over at it, wondering how many people have shown up for this event. How many