The Arjun Reddy Syndrome — The protagonist’s perspective
An odyssey into the esoteric emotions in the mind of the character.
Note : Spoilers Ahead. If you haven’t watched the film, you might have no idea what this is about.
Preface:
I know prefaces are boring so I’ll make it as short as possible. I do not aim to defend Arjun Reddy on the moral grounds — he’s obviously a flawed and imperfect human like everyone who’s watched it or hasn’t. However, I’d like to venture into a dangerous territory and try to offer an explanation for what, to many, is inexplicable and beyond natural comprehension.
When we find someone who’s caught stealing, we rush to label him as a thief, but once we get to know that he was forced to do it just because he had an infant at home dying of hunger, we encounter a Paradigm Shift. We’ll start to feel sorry for him instead of labeling him a “sinner”. It’s always easier to judge rather than to put ourselves in someone’s shoes.
This is an appeal to consider the character as if he were, a sibling, a close friend or a member of your own family going through one of the hardest phases of life — experiencing “The Arjun Reddy Syndrome” as I’d like to call it. Such a person if he deserves any, is pity and empathy, and not hatred or disgust. Without any further delay, let’s put on the shoes of Arjun Reddy, as we take the journey into his perspective.
Arjun Reddy’s View Point:
Preethi — A part of me.
I love my Preethi. She’s my girl. The moment I saw her, I fell in love with her. I declared sole ownership of her. By the time I finished medical college, my whole world revolved around her.
She’s become an extension and an outgrowth of my own personality and an inseparable part of my own identity — without her I’m no longer the same person.
They say “Time heals all wounds” but your absence hasn’t been just a wound that would heal over time. It’s like a handicap;
It seemed as if my limbs were forcibly amputated. My handicap constantly reminds me of what I’ve lost.
Withstanding this suffering and angst and yet surviving, I surprise myself. And speaking of handicaps, even if a limb is cut off, sometimes the brain still treats it present and can experience pain from a limb that no longer exists — phantom limbs as you know it. You are my phantom limb.
Time doesn’t always heal, it sometimes just gets us in terms with the situation.
Remember how it was hard to live apart from each other even though we were regularly talking, skyping and meeting at every opportunity?
This forced isolation from you feels a million times more terrible than that.
Married Already:
Although I approached her parents for their approval for our marriage, in my mind, she’s already “married” to me. She’s mine — every inch of her! Say what you want, but although there was no formal ceremony, our relationship was a better “marriage” than most. I believe that marriage — is much more than just an aftermath of a wedding ceremony. For what is marriage other than an irrevocable commitment to the union and communion of two beings’ mind, body, and soul?
Our relationship had almost everything that a conventional marriage had, and when I went to meet her after 6 months, there was an overflow of emotions and I couldn’t hold back myself from kissing her. After all, I felt like I was kissing my own wife!
Overtaken by Ego:
Her dad “caught us” in the act and made it look as if I’ve committed an abomination. Damn! He dragged me out of his house by the collar as if I’ve outraged his daughter’s modesty. I’m a bloody surgeon; What does he even think of me? What is it that I lack to be disqualified for at least a sensible discussion — let alone a marriage alliance? This humiliation brought out all the dormant ego inside me; I do have self-respect. I can’t be a doormat for everyone to rub their dirty ego on me.
How can a kiss become the blanket defining moment of the depth (or lack of it) of a couple’s character? I was frustrated and utterly disappointed at how things turned out so ugly in such a few moments.
I did not deserve such an unwelcome welcome; Just because our marriage wasn’t legally formalized and registered, doesn’t necessarily mean we weren’t really “married” or that I have no rights to her. I find this logic ridiculous. It’s like saying just because the baby isn’t issued a birth certificate yet, the mother doesn’t have any ownership of it. I don’t know how to communicate this to him. I asked Preethi to knock some sense into his mind.
Pain and Suffering :
I got drunk at the bachelor party that night to digest and forget everything that turned out ugly that day but to no avail.
The pain was palpable and almost physical. Of course, emotional and physical pain are perceived the same by the brain. No wonder I prescribed myself morphine — a painkiller generally used for treating severe pain. I knew that morphine-alcohol combo can be fatal but in that moment, nothing seemed worse than what I was already facing. I’ve already lost her — my everything and it seemed like there was nothing much left to lose.
The society’s hypocrisy, prejudice, and apathy towards lovers.
Imagine for a moment how it feels if your own wife is forcibly taken away from you and made to marry another person? How does it feel when almost everyone not only simply stood by, but approved of it? Even worse, how does it feel when your “wife” who you believed loved you more than anything else in the world, was somehow agreeing to all of this? How does it feel when she didn’t even care to look back when you’re almost getting killed? Even worse, how does it feel when your friends and family apathetically pester you to “move on” just because some idiot tied a yellow thread around her neck in a “ridiculous fire ceremony” surrounded by more idiots?
Depression after the loss of a spouse is seen reasonable but not for the loss of a lover, why? Why is the sorrow and suffering of a lover viewed less important than that of a married person?
There was none to my rescue — just because my relationship isn’t formalized yet. However, if the same thing happened to someone who’s married, obviously everyone would be opposing it. I’m amazed by the society’s hypocrisy and apathy towards people in love but aren’t yet married.
I don’t need a public ceremony or a certificate from the society to validate the authenticity of my relationship with her. I couldn’t understand how everyone was ascribing so high a value to a “fire ritual” as the irreversible validation of a committed relationship.
How can a ceremony, however nominal, ritual or otherwise, be so powerful that it irrevocably renders a strange idiot all exclusive rights over her while simultaneously stripping me of my own?
Your dad might have gotten you to marry someone, but what does he know of your worth? To the guy marrying you, you’re just another “match” which can be rejected at the slightest incompatibility with his “ideal wife list”. And that too he’d agree to marry you — after witnessing you in your most attractively decorated state. What does he know of your value?
What does he know of the efforts I’ve made and the cost I’ve paid? What does he know of the struggles I’ve faced and the patience I’ve exercised to win your heart?
What does he know of the anxiety of going to a girl’s father to ask him for her hand? Yet, without any of this, he just gets you as his wife, for life — gets all the rights to you, without a millionth of the struggles I’ve faced in order to earn you.
With just an hour’s formal ceremony he gets entitled to an unrestricted access to you, to your body — to your soft, lovely cheeks, to your delicious hand-cooked food, to all your sacred places, and to the parenthood of your offspring — all of these without paying a price beforehand. That place beside you and in your heart which I’ve earned through love after thousands of days, lakhs of messages being exchanged, years of getting to know you, understand you and love you for who you are, he got it in just a matter of days with no tangible effort from his side. Yet your dad washed his feet and put you in his hands. How would and how could such a person see you as his most prized possession?
Would anyone else in the world have tears of joy seeing you as his bride like I would? Could he without a moment’s pause offer his life for you like I would? Is there anyone in the world that knows you and loves you for who you are more than I do?
What more do you want in a man that I myself don’t have, can’t give or am not willing to provide?
Cognitive Dissonance:
One of the hardest things in life is to grieve the loss of a person still alive. Death of a loved one surely is tough to get over but ambiguous grief is extremely hard to bear and tolerate.
This usually happens when someone experiences the sudden death of a healthy loved one — they can’t believe the death really took place. Their usual response would be, “he was with me just a few moments back, how can this happen?” That’s the reason you find people talking to dead bodies of their loved ones asking them to wake up and talk to them — they aren’t mad, they’re just experiencing cognitive dissonance. They are unable to believe what their eyes are telling them.
Similarly, when you mourn for a person who’s dead and bury them with your own hands, your brain can appeal to memory and believe that the person has indeed died, but when you’re told to believe that someone died just because their body was nowhere to be found, it’s extremely hard to believe and digest that the death really took place. You’ll secretly believe in your heart that somehow somewhere the person is still alive and will return back. You can neither fully mourn and let go, nor remain assured and hopeful of their return.
Such people can never really move on. Instead, they’re in a perpetual state of suffering. A suffering that’s too personal that only they can help themselves slowly but painfully drag themselves out of it.
She left me without a hint or a word, let alone an explanation. At the very least, I expected a goodbye. I didn’t think it was too much to ask for, after all that we’ve had together. There wasn’t any definite event that took place where I got an confirmation/explanation from her to mark the end of our relationship in order for me to look back to believe that it really was.. over. For the lack of such an event, I couldn’t believe it really happened. I was in utter disbelief as to what I’ve witnessed that day in her wedding.
I’ve idealized her to the point that she would be the last person on earth to betray or decieve me. It has been many months since she got married but I still am not able to believe that of all the people in the world, she could do this to me.
I was experiencing cognitive dissonance — being unable to believe what I’m witnessing right in front of me, in spite of all the evidence that suggests the contrary.
Being utterly dogmatic and irrational, I was subconsciously rejecting any evidence that attempts to question her love and loyalty.
Consumed by Jealousy:
Sometimes I couldn’t help but imagine her being intimate with her husband… arrghh!!! I hate to address anyone else with that relation!
And the anger, frustration and helplessness arising out of the imagination of her indulging in intimate moments is devastating, to say the least. But what’s worse is the thought that she’s probably enjoying it with him, probably paying him the same compliments she paid me with.
Even worse is the possibility that she might have never loved me at all, what if all these days I was fooled just because I loved her? My faith in the very concept of love fades everytime i think of this and I turn to drinking again– the only way I know to run away from the thoughts inside my head.
She betrayed me, broke my heart and left me in loneliness. I was fooled and ridiculed for believing in love. No more, I said to myself. That day, the Romeo in me died and Casanova was born.
I started turning to women to receive perhaps the only love that really exists — lust.
Plunged into Nihilism:
There’s an inherent sense of an expectation of justice in us — that somehow Good will be rewarded and the Bad, punished. I’m not particularly religious but if there is a divine being acting as a Guardian of Justice, how could He turn a blind eye to this horrible injustice?
No matter how truly and deeply I love someone, the whole universe isn’t going to conspire to join me and her — is something I learnt the hard way.
Much to our own peril, right from a young age, we’re subconsciously bought into the unspoken notion in most books and movies — that two people just by the virtue of “true love” between them, will always and against all odds, end up together, get married and live happily ever after. How foolish of us!
I couldn’t believe that in only a few days she could not only leave me, but get married to another man. It’s almost impossible to trust another person again when you’ve had this kind of backstab experience from the person you loved and trusted the most. I thought, if SHE could do this to me, how can I ever trust anyone ever again? I spiralled down into a state of disbelief, distrust and nihilism.
The manner in which she chose to leave me — without a word or hint shook the very foundations of my faith in the “goodness of humanity”. She not only took herself — my love away from me, she took away my faith in the very concept of love too.
I felt mocked and fooled for believing in love. May be I shouldn’t have invested my feelings; Perhaps I should have been superficial and just used her for pastime pleasure like most people in relationships do.
Everything seemed at once, empty and meaningless. I started rationalizing that there’s no God, no meaning, and no purpose. I thought we’re just a bag of flesh and bones in an indifferent, meaningless universe that is dead and numb to the injustices and inequalities of life.
You tend to tell yourself that your purpose in life is just to try and extend your lifespan as much as possible, and replicate yourself as much as you could. Dopamine becomes the deity you worship. Everything else, morality and ethics are merely social constructs — or so it seemed.
I was telling myself that there’s no such thing as good or bad. That there will be no punishments or rewards to our actions, in this world or the next, that no one cares, and that in the end, it doesn’t even matter.
All of this culminated to plunge me into a state of moral nihilism — the rejection of all religious and moral principles; A belief that life is, simply put, meaningless.
After all, what value do our feelings and emotions have, if we’re merely a “bunch of chemicals walking in flesh bags”
Nihilism was enticing initially — it numbed my pain, but only at the cost of taking away every little happiness that’s left in my life. The more I adopted it, the more empty I felt inside.
Although the torturous pain forced me to grow calluses in my brain the same way we build calluses on our hands — in order to avoid getting hurt with every little pain,
The downside of becoming insensitive to PAIN is that you inadvertently become insensitive to HAPPINESS along with it.
Battling with Depression:
Your absence in my life has stripped off all its color and vibrancy. My desire for you has consumed me. Your absence has become a torment that is beyond comprehension. How would I relieve myself from this suffering?
After her marriage, I was going through a severe stage of depression. All the symptoms I manifested are a testament to it — Self-isolation,
Disinterest — I could no longer find any reason to wake up, eat, work or step out of my room anymore.
Sleepiness — When you’re depressed, you’re unusually sleepy all the time because the mind tries to shut itself down often — sleeping at odd timings and at odd places — in the canteen, hospital and balcony.
I was constantly seeking for sources of sedation at least, if not pleasure — alcohol, drugs and sex as a means to escape the painful reality.
But sleep doesn’t help much if its actually your soul that is tired and sex doesn’t help if it’s your heart that needs to be satisfied.
Anhedonia and apathy — I became numb, I just wanted to feel alive again, I wanted to feel wanted again. I started seeking sex as a substitute to the love that was denied and lost.
“God! how is it that we fail to recognize that the mask of pleasure, stripped of all hypocrisy, is that of anguish?”
― Georges Bernanos
I was desperately trying to fill the terrible void inside me with whatever I could find, but to no avail — everything worked according to the Law of Diminishing Returns.
Nostalgia — Haunted by Memories:
I was searching for her in every stranger I see or meet. I see her in almost every girl — a remotely similar stature or posture, a mildly similar fragrance, a distantly similar hairstyle or smile evokes vivid memories of her. It was as if she’s in every girl around me, mocking and teasing me.
Wherever I go, our memories haunt me. No matter how hard I’ve tried to keep myself busy as much as I could manage, she’d always be just on the back of my mind popping out to the forefront at any slightest hint of relevance — such as seeing a patient with her name or surname, or when hearing a random song while walking across the street.
Or when I see an old couple at the park, holding their hands. I wonder if they truly realize the luxury that they enjoy — being able to have lived alongside their loved one for all those years and to still hold those warm living hands in tender loving care.
When I see them, I can’t help but think it could have been us a few years down the line. We too could have had lots and lots of kids and grandkids.
No matter what I do, I simply can not stop thinking about you! You’re there before me when I open my eyes and you’re there before me when I close them. Our memories haunt me; I wake up in the middle of the night and cry helplessly.
Nevertheless, I’ve spent some of the best moments of my life with you. Had I known we’d part so soon, I would have made more amazing memories and treasured each moment and each second spent with you, and cherish each one of them in reminiscence again and again.
They have, many a times been my only comfort in the lonely moments of the sleepless nights where I’d slowly fall asleep — smiling with tears in my eyes.
There are things that I’ve seen that I cannot unsee, things that I’ve done that I cannot undo, things that I’ve felt that I cannot go back from. I have never loved anyone as much as I’ve loved you. For that matter, I never even knew I could love someone so dearly and deeply as I did love you. If not for you, I’d have never known true love… and for that I’m eternally grateful.
You were almost always the first person that came to my mind when I found something interesting to share with. Even though you’re not around right now, I still feel like sharing everything with you first. I guess old habits die hard.
All that energy, time and emotions spent on understanding each other, building trust and love — is it all meant to be for nothing?
I’ve never realized how much I’ve slowly grown dependent on you; my heart isn’t with me, and I’m no longer myself without you.
On one hand, I want to forget you but at the same time, I don’t want the memories that I’ve so carefully treasured, to fade away — Because I know, that they are all that I have of you now.
But memories don’t let me live in peace. I’m torn in between trying to forget and not wanting to forget. Ironically, they are both my source of pain and pleasure. The frustration — it’s like a terrible itch that you can’t even reach, let alone scratch enough of; and you — only you will know how it feels. Truly, trying to forget someone you’ve truly loved is a special kind of torture.
If I had committed suicide, everyone around me would’ve felt sorry for me; but just because I was seeking sex and doing drugs, merely to survive the pain, I’m being judged as shallow. I drink to forget the painful reality of my loss, only to be reminded of it again when I’m sober.
And my inability to succesfully deal with the loss makes me more remorseful and helpless and I start drinking and taking drugs again — plunging myself into an endless vicious cycle.
My Drug of Choice :
What most people don’t realize is that emotions work on the same receptors in the brain as substances like alcohol and drugs. Intense feelings of romantic love affect the brain in the same way drugs like cocaine do, releasing the feel-good chemicals — endorphins, dopamine and an intense kick of euphoria.
Several brain scans of people in love have revealed that addictions happen not only to drugs, but to people as well. Oxytocin — the love hormone released during intimacy is responsible for bonding and attachment in couples. And my addiction to drugs was only to compensate for the lack of my drug of choice — HER.
Not that I wanted to, but in trying to escape the pain, if I ever wanted to move on or get close to someone else, I’m met with guilt and discomfort.
Also, there seemed to be a weird sense of satisfaction in Suffering because of you than in Pleasure with someone else.
Although I was convincing myself that i don’t owe any explanation to anyone, that I’m no longer committed and that I’m free to pursue anyone, I’m always met with a deep sense of guilt because I felt like I was cheating on her -– despite the fact that she’s married to another.
There was a severe, continuous conflict between the nihilist and moralist in me.
Although i felt like I’m already married to her, I was utterly confused of my own relationship status.
I’ve become a widower without ever marrying.
I was left hanging in the middle ground, I couldn’t enjoy neither the freedom of single-hood nor the secure warmth of a committed relationship. It was the worst of both worlds — being unable to enjoy any of the benefits of any particular side, I was paying the price for both.
Unanswered Questions — Things left unsaid.
There were a thousand unanswered questions; A thousand why’s, when’s and what’s. You’ve kept me wondering — Why have you gone silent? Why did you disappear? What wrong have I done? Did you even truly love me? I’m still in disbelief, still not being able to digest this. You left me without a word and it makes it even more painful as if I was someone who didn’t even deserve an explanation or a reason, as if I meant nothing to you.
On your wedding, when I came to take you back, you didn’t even care to look at me — even while I’m being beaten to death. How could you be so indifferent? I can’t grasp the incoherence between one I know you are and the one I’ve witnessed that day — you seemed like an entirely different person!
The opposite of love is not “hate”, it is “indifference”
— Elie Weisel.
Indifference reduces the other to an abstraction. Anger can be understood, even hate is tolerable, but indifference means that the anguish and pain of another is of no interest or consequence. Your apathy and indifference were truly heart-wrenching.
How long should we be like this? Talk to me while I’m still alive. How many tears will it take till you know that too many tears have been cried? How many years will it take till you feel too much time has passed without talking to me? How many years can I still exist?
How many phone calls can I make before I can no longer hear your voice? How much pain can I endure before dying of a broken heart? How many beatings can my heart take before it forever stops? How many times can you turn your eyes away from me and pretend that you just don’t see?
Undying Hope
I can’t help but think of the possibilities of us meeting and leading a life together. I even went as far as to wish he’d die soon so that perhaps then you’ll think of coming back to me. However, I can’t wait for someone to die to gain you, cause you’re already mine, I believe no superficial ceremony can ever change that.
I took a break, spent days pondering over what should be done. Browsing through her photos, something slowly began to dawn on me — I still love her the same and want her more than ever.
Her marriage did not affect my love for her one bit. Without her, life seemed impossible to live, and it didn’t matter whether she’s married, pregnant or otherwise, I wanted her back.
I very well know my longing for you is irrational and that my hope, pointless, but I can’t help myself but be irrational. I’ve realized with this experience, that, if it isn’t irrational, it ain’t love.
Unfortunately, the only person I’d like to share these feelings with, is the only person that isn’t there. Ironically, the most painful yet the most soul-satisfying experiences in my life have been directly or indirectly because of her.
It feels like a lifetime since the last time I saw her and just the imagination of our reunion brings me tears of joy. If we were to ever meet again, I’d hold her tight, groan and weep to my heart’s content; till the disbelief of her being in my embrace slowly vanishes away.
I didn’t want to live with the regret of not taking a chance, I wanted to settle everything once and for all. I’ve put aside all my ego and self-respect aside and took the courage to meet her, to ask forgiveness, and plead her if necessary to come and bring back the light into my life.
I wanted to ask —
You truly did love me once, not without a cause. What cause withholds you now from talking to me?
I was once your best friend, your soulmate, and the love of your life. What changed now? What stops you now from being your true self? What happened to the girl that loved so dearly the guy speaking this?
“To truly love someone from the depths of your heart is the bravest, most fearful and dangerous thing you can do”.
And in that sense, and that sense only, I’m the bravest and most courageous of all — for I’ve never withheld myself from loving you to the fullest extent.
Not all stories end well, but when they indeed do, it’s really a sight to behold.
Sometimes the greatest journey is the distance between two people— W.S. Maugham
Important Note: The author doesn’t in any way condone drugs, alcohol and other unusual behavior in the story. Although the article is written in first person, it does not necessarily reflect the actual views of the protagonist in the story or its Director; The first person narrative is only an exercise of creative freedom to closely connect the character’s feelings to the audience.
