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.
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.
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