Skip to main content

Finish Line

I have fallen into a morbid routine of checking in on my parents twice a day and bracing myself for news that despite their efforts to stay safe, they are impacted by the fire that is raging in India. More and more of their neighbors are getting sick every day and this is a community of senior citizens with a smattering of younger folks. One family has been self-isolating for two weeks and no one knows how they are faring behind closed doors. 

People feel awkward about calling when their ability to help is non-existent. Checking on my other relatives feels much the same way - I am not sure anyone wants it at this time. With friends it is a bit easier but I am filled with dread when they don't reply. In one instance, this person had had a freak accident and burnt herself while making chai in the kitchen. That put her out of commission for a couple of days and I had activated our full network to track her down. On day three she called and told me what had happened and told me to stop freaking out. 

My friend L's mother died leaving behind a desolate husband of sixty some years. The old man is dazed by the events of the world now confounded by being left alone to figure out what it all means. Should he stay and wait but for what and if not then where is he meant to go and why. These would have been hard questions in the best of times for a widower his age with children living in far flung countries but now they are all but impossible to answer. No one has a plan for him, they watch helplessly as he shuffles around a shadow of his former self, waiting like the rest of us but feeling a lot closer to the finish line. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Cheese Making

I never fail to remind J that there is a time and place for everything. It is possibly the line she will remember me by when I am dead and gone given how frequently she hears it. Instead of having her breakfast she will break into a song and dance number from High School Musical well past eight on Monday morning. She will insist that I watch and applaud the performance instead of screaming at her to finish her milk and cereal. Her sense of occasion is seriously lacking but then so is mine. Consider for example, a person walks into the grocery store with the express purpose of buying detergent because they are fresh out of it and laundry is only half way done. However instead of heading straight for detergent, they wander over to the natural foods aisle and go berserk upon finding goat milk on sale for a dollar a gallon. They at once proceed to stock pile so they can turn it to huge quantities home-made feta cheese. That person would be me. It would not concern me in the least that I ha...

Part Liberated Woman

An expat desi friend and I were discussing what it means to return to India when you have cobbled together a life in a foreign country no matter how flawed and imperfect. We have both spent over a decade outside India and have kids who were born abroad and have spent very little time back home. Returning "home" is something a lot of new immigrants like L and myself think about. We want very much for that to be an option because a full assimilation into our country of domicile is likely never going to happen. L has visited India more often than I have and has a much better pulse on what's going on there. For me the strongest drag force working against my desire to return home is my experience of life as a woman in India. I neither want to live that suffocatingly sheltered existence myself nor subject J to it. The freedom, independence and safety I have had in here in suburban America was not even something I knew I could expect to have in India. I never knew what it felt t...

Under Advisement

Recently a desi dude who is more acquaintance less friend called to check in on me. Those who have read this blog before might know that such calls tend to make me anxious. Depending on how far back we go, there are sets of FAQs that I brace myself to answer. The trick is to be sufficiently evasive without being downright offensive - a fine balancing act given the provocative nature of questions involved. I look at these calls as opportunities for building patience and tolerance both of which I seriously lack. Basically, they are very desirous of finding out how I am doing in my personal and professional life to be sure that they have me correctly categorized and filed for future reference. The major buckets appear to be loser, struggling, average, arrived, superstar and uncategorizable. My goal needless to say, is to be in the last bucket - the unknown, unquantifiable and therefore uninteresting entity. Their aim is to pull me into something more tangible. So anyways, the dude in ques...