Kaveri amma was unable to get out of bed that day. Her bones were stiff, it felt as if all energy had drained off completely, leaving her in a state of near death.
"Am I going to die?" She was mortified. This was not how she had pictured her end, alone and helpless.
"What if I die now?"
"Who will check on me?"
"Who will inform Ramesh?"
Kaveri amma was getting closer to the House of God and she knew that. She begged her body to move so that she could get out of bed and make that phone call to her only son Ramesh. Whenever she had expressed a death anxiety to him, he would always comfort her by saying that he was just a phone call away.
"Just a phone call away," she now thought weakly. At this hour of need she understood what that truly meant; nothing at all, if one cannot get out of bed and reach out for the phone.
She often took solace in her past as she had a constant struggle with the present. She was unable to live in the moment. Death seemed imminent. It was going to happen today and she was going to die alone. This frightful thought gripped her senses as she slowly sank into the past.
***
Amma had no one to blame for this situation. It was her decision to live all by herself. All these years, she had lived a much cocooned life under the warmth and protection of her husband. Her husband had passed away peacefully in his sleep at the ripe age of ninety. She was seventy eight and her coping mechanism was good. She tried not to dwell on the loss but felt even more determined to be like him, independent and strong. She did not want to be a hindrance to anybody, least of all to her only son and his family.
Amma was very fond of Asha, her daughter-in-law. They shared a very special bonding, although generations apart. Asha had lost her mother at a very young age and when she married Ramesh, Kaveriamma was more like a mother to her, perhaps even more special than that. When amma turned 80, Asha insisted that she shift from her husband's house located in a small town on the outskirts of Chennai to their apartment which was in the heart of the city.
"How long are you going to stay alone?" Asha had asked with concern.
Whenever amma was confronted with delicate questions, she would change the topic to her grandchildren and Asha easily fell into the trap. Both of them would happily travel down memory lane and recall all the mischiefs and playfulness of the twins, Priya and Varun, in their early years.
Asha was a teacher and took voluntary retirement when her twins were teenagers. She wanted to stay more connected with her family. Both her children were set on different paths; Priya was married into a wealthy family from Boston and Varun devoted himself to the music world just like his father, and was steadily gaining name and fame. He had created a niche in Indo-Western music and named his band as "Fusion beatz." His shows gave him an opportunity to explore the world but his home was Chennai, the hub of the music industry. Asha would show his music videos to amma who insisted on watching it over and over again.
One day Asha told amma, "this song of Varun has gone viral and thousands of people all over the world are seeing it? Let me play it for you."
"Even songs get virus fever?" asked amma with an innocent curiosity.
"Amma, even computers have virus," replied Asha smilingly.
A perplexed amma asked, "Which doctor can cure this computer virus?"
Asha rose up to the bait and replied in a serious tone, "Amma these doctors are computer engineers who can get rid of any sort of virus and cure the machines."
This was enough to make the women from two generations giggle like girls.
***
Amma's mind suddenly flitted to that box, a priceless possession which she had guarded all her life. It was still there, the dainty box, made of dark teak wood with intricate leaf like carvings. Somebody in the family had actually carved it. This box belonged to her great grandmother and got passed on to her grandmother, to her mother and now finally it was hers. Over the years it had lost its lustre and the copper hinges had corroded. But it still held the ancestral jewellery as the family had prospered over the generations. It would now be worth a fortune. She wanted Asha to have all of it. She was tired of guarding it. It had to be passed on.
Amma's voice trembled with emotion as she spoke, "Asha, my dear, please do not refuse and hurt my feelings. I would like you to have this in my memory."
She pressed the box in Asha's hands and continued, "You must pass this on to Priya and her children and so on for many more generations to come. I would also like you and Ramesh to have this modest house that I am living in, so that I can comfortably breathe my last and find a place in heaven."
Asha did not know what to say. She accepted the box and started weeping quietly. She was genuinely happy about her unique relationship with amma and wanted nothing more out of it. She was aware that if she refused to accept the inheritance, it would break amma's heart. So she remained silent.
All this seemed a distant past. Amma was now getting breathless. Her eyes filled up with tears as she remembered Asha who had battled till the end before finally succumbing to breast cancer. Amma hoped and prayed but nothing could change Asha's destiny.
She could now hear Asha's voice, distinctly.
"Come to me amma. We both can live together in this new place named ‘heaven' by earthlings. Do you know how beautiful it is here? There is no gravity and we can float and drift anywhere. We are masters of our doings, come to me amma."
Kaveri amma's thoughts whirled in the pool of her own emotions.
Ramesh became a recluse after his wife's death and diverted his focus from music to his daughter and grandchildren. He visited Boston to be with his grand-daughters. Varun never married and lived with his father. Amma knew that she would not be able to adjust in their space and hence continued to live alone.
***
Amma looked at her childhood photo which was by her bedside. She was the last one living out of her nine siblings. She was going to join them but for some strange reason, she was afraid to face death and even more terrified to die alone.
"What if my body decomposes? What if I turn into a ghost?"
She halted her thoughts and tried to get up. She felt very weak and paralysed. Her legs simply refused to move. Her son had given a cell phone and even taught her how to use it. At this hour of need it was beyond her reach.
"Just a phone call away," she thought wryly.
She had to call someone. Her mind was in turmoil and her head began to throb.
Just then there was a distinct knock on the door, not once but three times. She strained to see who it was.
"Is that you Ramesh?" she asked with her hopes rising.
She heard a click and the door slowly opened. She could see a woman enter the room. The woman was clad in white and next to her stood a youth with white overcoat and a stethoscope around his neck. The woman was shuffling a sheath of papers and both came towards her.
Amma's head had hurt and she was very confused.
"Had she met with an accident?"
"Did she fall off her bed?"
She looked down and found that she was in hospital clothes.
"Where on earth was she?"
"Where was Ramesh?"
In spite of all this confusion, amma's spirits suddenly soared because she was not going to die alone. She could seek their help in calling Ramesh. As she collected her thoughts a gentle voice breezed across the room.
"How are you madam?" The young doctor in white overcoat grinned and felt her pulse. At the same time, the woman touched her shoulder and gave her a light hug.
"How are you Asha?" she asked in a soft voice with a tinge of anxiety.
Amma was baffled. Her mind was again in turmoil.
"Who is Asha and where is my son Ramesh?"
"Can somebody please answer me?" pleads amma. Her head was throbbing and it felt like it would explode any moment.
"Asha, you look beautiful and fresh as a morning daisy. I had bathed and changed you last night and you still look so fresh. This means you had a good night's sleep," said the woman releasing her grip.
Amma pointed at the hospital clothes and exasperatedly asked, "Does this make me look fresh as a daisy?"
The woman in white handed her a mirror.
A pale, young face in her mid-thirties stared back.
"Who is this?" amma asked confused.
"This is you Asha. Shall I call Ramesh?" asked the woman.
"Nooooo..." she screamed in agony.
"I am not Asha. I am Kaveri amma."
"Who is Ramesh?" Amma's voice softened and trailed off as she looked at the ceiling with a deadpan expression. Her fingers were still clutching the dainty jewellery box. She opened the box and screamed again. It was empty.
***
The young intern clad in white, turned to the doctor and read out her observation:
Patient's condition is deteriorating. She has been hallucinating. I have checked with her family and there is nobody by the name of Kaveri amma. The jewellery box was gifted to her by her family. It had been empty before and she always kept it by her bedside. She is delusional and the duration of her spells has increased considerably. Therefore I recommend that the patient be moved to an institution (not in isolation) before onset of any symptoms of violence."
The doctor nodded thoughtfully as he examined Asha.
Through the narrow glass, Ramesh looks helplessly at his beloved wife with tears in his eyes, hoping for a miracle. Priya and Varun are by his side sobbing. Destiny had indeed prematurely snatched Asha away from all of them to a point of no return.
**********
Published in Muse India - January/February, 2016
Thank you Atreya Sarma - Editor (fiction & reviews)
