216 of 14,500

Today is my father's birthday. He said that my mum had got him a card.

Nowadays when I call home, my mum is usually asleep. When she is awake, she is usually in a fog. Nowadays she is forgetting things.

Today I called up and insisted that I speak with her. She came on the line and asked me how I was. I said I was okay. I asked her if she knew who I was. She answered that I was her daughter. I asked her what my name was. She said Mukta. (Not Chinky, my pet name.) I asked her if she remembered anything else about me. She was silent. I repeated the question. She then asked me, "Is it necessary?"

I thought about it. In my understanding of this life, I was born to my mother who also gave me my name. Today she remembers that connection over and above any other piece of identity I may have embellished my 'self' with.

In my understanding of this life for now, at least, nothing more is necessary.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Check (the) mate

Not the same, all the same - Rang de Basanti, being a Hindu, uniform civil code, and Hostage – in that unrelated sequence

Save the Indian (male) child