This story was written back in 2010 as an entry for the Deccan Heral Short Story Competition. Back then I was a second year medical student, and was fascinated by diseases of the mind. Now having taken up Psychiatry as a specialization, I re read it, and I must say it's quite an accurate description( save for fictional liberty).
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‘Raman, how much exactly is eight times thirteen?’, I
queried.
It was the fag end of
the day, my feet were aching and I didn’t exactly pride myself with regards to
my mathematical abilities. All I wanted was to tally the change, finish the
cursory submission work and head home.
‘One hundred and four’, rapt came the reply.
This boy had a sharp mind. Pity he didn’t put it to much use
but to place bets at the bar that he’ll shortly be heading over to; to
intoxicate himself to the point where he can…
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