Dr. Shalini didn’t reach for a notepad. Instead, she reached behind her chair and pulled out a different book—one Arjun hadn’t seen before. Its cover was plain, no title on the spine.
Today, a new patient sat across from her. Arjun, twenty-four, a coder whose hands trembled slightly as he set down his coffee cup. dr shalini psychiatrist books
Dr. Shalini’s waiting room was a quiet aquarium of blues and greys. The soft hum of a diffuser released lavender into the air, and the only sharp sound was the occasional turn of a page. On the low teak table, fanned out like offerings, were her books. no title on the spine. Today