The Questionnaire

 

IHealUHeal Clinic                                                                                                                                                         Form No. 7690876

Central Branch

Nashtakashi

Pre-admission questionnaire

Please do not skip the instructions, even if their loopy length seems off-putting. We are already inundated with backlogs of stabbed-in, doodled-in and barely filled-in, illegible forms from clients who skip instructions that we — with all due respect — have to shove into our miniature fireplace of the Perpetual Fire once every five blinks, immediately after the bulldozing and disposing off of which, we find again, disturbingly, serpentine paper pillars of similar indifference crowding our reception counter, and hence, we ask of you, esteemed client, to please heed to our instructions.

Though we do try contacting our clients with the scant and incoherent crumbs of information they leave on their tastelessly ripped or origamied paperwork before they end up kindled, their bodies are almost always untraceable. So, we suggest you not take the chance and end up like them— lost causes, the poor spirits, and let us help you help yourself.

Instructions:

1. Fill out as much of the questionnaire as possible. Ask for extra sheets if necessary. If you cannot answer any question or feel overwhelmingly human doing so, feel free to leave the corresponding blanks empty. However, for optimal outcome, it is advised the empty blanks be kept to a minimum.
2. As detestable and/or scandalizing as it may sound depending on your particular flavour of ethos, you ARE required to be honest while answering the descriptive questions. Your honesty and clarity help our staff pair you with the right Fixer and redirect appropriate resources for your problem resolution.
3. The physical descriptor questions require answers about your CURRENT body: the one you’ve lugged in to the clinic, not the ones you briefly possessed two minutes or two months ago, or the ones you have your sights on for possible inhabitation a blink or two after our assessment. Our clients often encounter confusion and dissociation when answering these questions, so, we suggest you copy the pertinent information verbatim from the identity card your body carries on their person.
4. While we make sure to confiscate or render useless all foreign electronics entering the clinic premises, we have, however, been getting more and more hairy cases of bodies sneaking newer and interception-resisting gadgets lately, for amusement or spying purposes. We DO NOT take this incursion lightly. Photography, videography or any other means of data capture is strictly prohibited, both of the questionnaire and of any square of the clinic. Make sure your body is not in possession of any recording device, carried in by mistake or choice. If you suddenly remember or spot a smuggled recorder of any capacity on your body, report and surrender at the reception counter immediately. There will, sadly, be no warnings for violators. Our conflict management team waits neither for explanations nor excuses before tossing the violating body into the Perpetual Fire, an undesirable and unpleasant outcome for everyone involved.
5. DO NOT copy from your neighbour’s form or scribble vague approximations of what you suspect are expected answers. This questionnaire is a highly confidential document. No part of what you reveal here will ever funnel into the ears of night, so, there’s nothing to worry about; unless you reveal something so unprecedented it necessitates our recruiting of higher authorities, for supervision purposes, of course—still no reason for you to hold back anything from us.
6. This point is for the unfortunate spirits attached to bodies afflicted with perfectionism. There are no right or wrong answers (Well, there are, some, but leave the judgement part to us.) Don’t skip questions for lack of the most undebatable answer.
7. Write “In transit” in capital letters in answer to “Current Relationship Status.” Failure to do so will result in auto-rejection of your form.
8. Before you leave, DO NOT forget to submit your completely filled-in form at the rot-black counter of the reception— the one with the sagging name board, helmed by Miss Dakini. It’s the only counter, impossible to miss or confuse with anything else, really. Miss Dakini might appear judgemental or disgusted or both as she grabs the forms off you, but it’s just her sunken, wrinkle-crunched narrow eyes. Nothing to fear, she’s harmless. Or so we hope. Do Not exit the clinic with our questionnaire in your possession. For consequences, refer instruction no. 5.
9. DO NOT befriend our clients or try fraternizing with them outside the clinic. We will know. Always.
10. We will contact your physical body within two to three business days to update you on the status of your application. Make sure you do not switch planes or bodies in the meanwhile.

QUESTIONNAIRE

BASIC DETAILS                                                  

NAME: AP

DOB:  15/04/1985

WEIGHT: 95 kg

GENDER: Female

ETHNICITY: Indian

CURRENT RELATIONSHIP STATUS:

CURRENT EMPLOYMENT STATUS: Self-employed

MEDICAL COVERAGE STATUS: N/A

PHONE:

EMAIL:

 

MEDICAL HISTORY

1. List drugs (recreational/medical) you are currently on.
2. Have you been subjected to exorcisms lately?

IHEALUHEAL-SPECIFIC QUESTIONS

1. What would you say is your most pressing concern of the moment?

Just here to offload, vent for the last time before I excommunicate myself from The Order of Darkness and go incognito; this was the worst-rated clinic that fit the bill.

When at first latch, I mummified AP in chokeholds of shame, hopelessness and self-hatred, suffocating her blue, it’d sent plumes of righteous, rancid victory through my spirit, making me wrongly assume she was easy game. But, as years graved, my constrictions started unravelling, their corpse-grey ribbons, frayed and brittle, snapping free, so many and so fast, I could no longer reinstate darkness like I once used to. Well, AP’s not easily snuffed like flower or flame either. When she’s at the makeshift stall below her flat, one hand on hips, the other ladling out steaming, home-cooked rice and curry to whoever lines up, the imposing wall of her is intimidating to both human and spirit.

Just like every other human host in my past hauntings, she had no dearth of material-realm axes hacking at her throughout her earth life, but what made her different was the way the vessel of her tended to the wounds. To suture them closed, she listened to their puckering, dictatorial mouths instead of dwelling on the aching ugliness of the rust gutters the flying flesh chips left in their wakes, and in doing so, cultivated an underskin capable of transfiguration under duress. She changed forms like the moon, puffing into unsightly cannonballs and slivering into papery translucent cuticles, strictly refusing to cave beyond that threshold. At no point would she entertain dissolution. Melting into blackness was never a tempting or sensible option on her charts. Of course, I had no way of anticipating this when I first collided into her, prematurely congratulating myself on my prize, for she was in her flyaway wafer phase then, and I was assured of rotting sweet victory. Little did I know her flimsy stage susceptible to my threaded-in chords of darkness would be short-lived, was a precursor to her ballooning larger than ever before, and that I would thence be more annoying squatter than powerful resident parasite in AP’s fluid, accommodating body. 

In her refusing to be puppeteered by my dark strings, she was the first and only entity I encountered across realms that drove me to dissect my indoctrinations and reconsider if whittling every vulnerable host into a black mirror of depravity was worth anything at all in any scheme of things.

I was livid at first, but as I got used to AP’s states of flux, my fury turned to apathy, to desperation, to irritated tolerance, to liking, and now, dare I say… to loving? However, I never refrained from performing my spirit duties, though I must admit my attempts have been growing comically feebler over the years.

Even last week, I made attempts at spinster-shaming the childless, unwed thirty-seven-year old, drawing attention to AP’s under-averageness—that she was neither hustling, magazine-cover worthy feminist icon nor nurturer of partner or progeny, even wielding the good old result-driving weapon, the fear of being a societal outcast for good measure, all to no avail. Know what she did then?

Added yet another member to her chosen family: a woman whose parents refused to accept her true name and nature.

Just like that. Not to spite me or prove anyone wrong. A woman came knocking on AP’s door seeking directions to a temporary safe shelter and AP, without pause or reason, called her daughter, took her in.

If my darkness had already wavered shroud-thin, its blood-crusted sharp edges chipped blunt by my grating against her concrete resolve over the eight years, yesterday, my seams blurred beyond redemption. The best (or worst) part? I don’t care anymore.

The two women talk of makeup and surgeries, cats and boys, and there’s gossiping, giggling and bustling activity, and also tears dotting every teacup, stew pot, table with chairs, and I can’t pretend to be vested in my profane duties anymore. All I want is to be around AP, delight in the way she keeps growing tendrils and shoots in unprecedented ways at the most unexpected of times. I crave the lived experience of the human spectrum, at least AP’s, even if by proxy.

I know the Elders will get me, eventually, but I like to naively believe when they do, AP’s fiercely protective eagle wing will shield me from damnation somehow.

4. On a scale of 1-10, how disruptive is the above-mentioned crisis in the fulfilment of your spirit duties?
5. If and when our Fixer suggests abandoning the body, how quickly can you exit? Will you be needing additional IHealUHeal assistance?
6. How urgently do you require help? (If you are very close to switching planes without notice or allotment, we ask you to contact our emergency care unit immediately.)

 

Thank you for your time and trust in IHealUHeal. We hope to restore your rightful darkness, in all its void glory, back to you at the soonest.

 

T&C*

Anyone found reading or possessing this questionnaire outside our clinic, irrespective of format—paper, digital, holographic, or any other technicality that facilitates imbibing the information contained within this highly confidential document, will be subject to obliteration by means deemed suitable by our conflict management team effective immediately. The termination of continuum still applies even if you are a certified haunting spirit and are a verified ex/present client of ours, meaning you’ll be worse off than when you entered our premises. We are not sorry for the fate you invited upon yourself. What’s that saying those humans so love? Curiosity killed the…cat?