Not knowing what else to do, I would swallow all the leftovers. If I ask her how he was the reason, she would start pouring out her thoughts and recollections.įor your father, there shouldn’t be any food left over. She attributes the reason for that to Appa. When she was young, Amma was rather stout. For that reason, she had started reducing her food intake and thereby hurting herself.
Otherwise, who’ll be able to help one sit on the toilet,” she tells herself on her own. She just calls out, “hey, you” or “come here.” “When one gets old, one should reduce weight and get thin. Sometimes she forgets even the names of the people in the house. Now I am a mere physical body.” Saying that, she would keep walking in the dark.Īmma has been like this for the past few years. It has been so many years since the glowing light in my mind extinguished, son. “Well, if I fall down, then I just have to pass on. It is not on account of the fear of the dark I’m saying this. Am I seeing the dark only today or since yesterday? Seventy years have gone by since I’ve started getting used to the dark. Even when I chided her so many times and told her not to do that, she would respond, “I’m so used to the dark, Soma.
Recently, Amma has become accustomed to walking in the dark without turning on the electric lights. I stayed with Amma at the hospital to keep her company at night. We had Amma admitted to hospital for the last three days after she had stumbled and fell down in the dark. It looks like one has to pass time in old age only by hanging on to something or other that doesn’t exist.
I could hear her talking to herself presuming that she was talking to me.
While recovering at the hospital following a fall, a woman in her seventies recounts her life living under the thumb of a domineering husband and expresses her wish to dictate to her son a story she was not allowed to write.
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