The gardener in the brain

Schizophrenia is a mental disorder that is evident as abnormal social behavior, and the inability to differentiate between the real and the imaginary. Symptoms include confused thinking, a suspicious attitude, false beliefs, anxiety disorders and depression.

Though it is hereditary in nature, environmental factors can also trigger the disorder. Though there is no cure for this disorder, and treatment includes administration of anti-psychotic drugs, a recent discovery about the cause (which was earlier unknown) has given hope that there may be a cure in the future.

Schizophrenia occurs when a normal brain development process called “Synaptic Pruning” goes out of control. Synaptic pruning occurs in the brain during adolescence to cut out the several unnecessary neurons and synaptic connections that are amassed in excess during early childhood. This is done by a protein called C4 that tags the ‘useless’ neurons with a sister protein-C3.

In normal brains, this process helps speed up cognitive functioning. But in the schizophrenic brain, the pruning mechanism goes out of control, as the C4 protein tags even necessary neurons as ‘unnecessary’, leading to their ‘pruning’.

A variation in a single position in the DNA sequence is the genetic root cause. The result is an abnormal loss of gray matter, impairing mental function. However, the actual symptoms of schizophrenia are evident only in early adulthood, and sometimes, much later in life.

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Farheen was, as usual, in the garden when her niece Sameera burst in upon her. “Furry Khaala!” Sameera sang out loudly and lovingly, as she hugged Farheen tight. Her aunt hugged back in return and grinned good-naturedly, not in the least minding the insolent nickname her beloved niece had given her accidentally. Sameera had been unable to pronounce ‘Farheen’ as a kid, and her version of “Furry” had stuck, much to the family’s amusement.

“So what brings my little gust of wind here?” asked Farheen fondly, as she mussed her niece’s hair.
“A break from work”, quipped Sameera. “Your niece is tired of being a strong, independent woman and needs some pampering.”

“Your mother might have been a better choice if you wanted pampering”, said Farheen dryly.
“Oh, I need a bit of inspiration as well to get back to the ‘independent woman’ mode”, said Sameera. “So I chose you!”

Farheen laughed. She knew that now Sameera would ensure a never-ending routine of parties, outings and excursions to spice up her otherwise lonely life. Widowed in her early twenties, Farheen had resolved to stay away from both her parents and her in-laws, and had focused on her career as a bank officer to put everything else out of her mind- the grief, the pain and the loneliness.

She broke out of the religious and traditional bindings that had forced her to be a silent, submissive spectator when her wedding had been fixed without her consent, cutting short her academic journey. When her husband passed away, and she found herself being pressurized to marry again, she put down her foot at last, and defying everyone, went on to complete her education.

She was sure that none in her family could understand her, so she stayed away from them, and started working. It had taken her time to heal and gain confidence, but she did it. Though she was a rebel in the eyes of her parents and in-laws, her various nieces and nephews adored her, and she was a role model of determination to all the young girls in her family.

Sameera happily chattered away, while going around Farheen’s beautiful garden, her pride. Now and then she pointed to a plant or a bauble and asked Farheen when or where she had acquired it. Farheen’s love for plants and gardening was well-known.

“Furry Khaala, these pakoras are so tasty”, said Sameera, with her mouth almost full. “You are not just a great gardener, but a great cook too. I still remember the Biriyani you made the last time I….”
But Farheen wasn’t listening. Her attention seemed to be elsewhere. Sameera turned around to find a wary look tinged with fear on her aunt’s face.

“What’s wrong, Furry Khaala?” asked Sameera.

The strange look on Farheen’s face vanished, and she was her usual smiling self again. “Nothing. I thought I saw a shadow there”, she said. Sameera shrugged, and continued her chatter.

“Those weeds need to be removed, Khaala. It’s not like you to let them grow”, Sameera said the next morning, as she sat in the garden, having tea with her aunt. “And the rose bushes need to be pruned too.

Look how wild they’ve grown! I suppose I couldn’t make out last evening as it was already quite dark.”
Farheen frowned. She had removed the weeds just a day ago. How had they sprouted back so quickly? She was sure she couldn’t have missed them. She finished her tea, and brought out her big pair of garden scissors.

Cut, cut, cut went the scissors, as Farheen feverishly tried to clear the messy overgrown creepers, prune the thorny rose bushes and uproot the bothersome weeds. Her mind however, raced from one thought to the other. How had her garden become so messy? She was always meticulous about her gardening.

Was it the neighbor who had dropped in a few weeds in her garden because he was jealous of it? Snip, snip went the scissors in her hands, as her thoughts leaped over each other in order to gain her attention.

Quite unknown to poor Farheen, a pair of scissors had been active in her brain too. Snip, snip it went. A cut here, and a cut there, the scissors in her brain had turned out far more efficient than the one in her hands.

Sameera was trying to snip away the unruly arms of the magenta pink bougainvillea creeper that hung over the front porch. “Khaala, I’m removing all these branches. I don’t think they’ll flower anymore”, she said, as she struggled with the thick, woody stems of the plant.

Farheen saw her, and nodded. She was tired. She went back inside, leaving Sameera to clear up the rest of the mess.

The next day, Sameera, all dressed up and expectant, waited patiently for her aunt to appear, as they had planned to go out for a movie. “Hurry up, Furry Khaala”, she called. But there was no reply.

Sameera went in search of her, and was shocked to find her in bed, crying. “I’m not coming anywhere”, she said furiously. “That horrible neighbor of mine, he’s waiting to steal my plants and spoil my garden!”

Sameera was alarmed. “Why Khaala, what has he taken? I didn’t see him at all!” “Didn’t you see my beautiful bougainvillea? All cut away? He’s taken away those branches to plant them in his garden, the thief!”

Sameera was bewildered. It was she who had cut the bougainvillea, right in front of her aunt! What was Farheen talking about?

“Khaala, it was me, not the neighbor. Don’t you remember? It was yesterday.”

Farheen sobered up. Was it true? She wrinkled her forehead, trying to remember, but she couldn’t.

Everything seemed a haze.

The following days and months were equally confusing for poor Sameera. Farheen went to work, but insisted that Sameera accompany her. “This city is a lot more dangerous now”, Farheen whispered to Sameera. “I find strange shadows following me everywhere.

Who knows? Plotting to kill me and plunder my house, I suppose. After all, I stay alone.” Sameera, however, could not spot these mysterious stalkers, and with each passing day, she grew more and more worried about Farheen. She did not know about the scissors in Farheen’s brain that had done the “snip, snip” – pruning away her memories, cutting away her connection to reality.

One day, Farheen went on her own, and then onwards, stopped taking the car to work, and instead started going by bus. “They tried to kill me”, she told Sameera. “They sabotaged the brakes!” Sameera checked the car but found nothing wrong, while Farheen’s general state of suspicion regarding everyone around her escalated. The scissors in her brain had gone haywire- changing her entirely.

Then one day came a call from Farheen’s office. Sameera rushed there to find that Farheen had locked herself up inside her cabin, hysterically saying there were all out to kill her. It was evening by the time they managed to get Farheen admitted in the hospital.

“Schizophrenia”, said the doctor to Sameera, as tears ran down her cheeks. “Hereditary mental disorder. You know the symptoms— abnormal social behavior, confused thinking— happens because of a runaway protein called C4 which sends signals to cut neurons in the brain. There is no cure, but we will try our best to bring her as close to normalcy as possible.”