Crossroads..

If there was one tough moment, it was this one. I had just left home. Flying from one home to another. Visited Los Santos to see my parents. Mummy just had a knee replacement. Rehabilitation is not easy. It takes months. It was sad to see her walking in pain. More difficult still to see her learn to walk all over again. She who taught me how to walk once, was learning to walk all over again. I could not do much,except to watch with a sense of helpless angst. With a heavy heart, left home to fly back to another. With little Krishna in my arms, I had learnt to be strong. Strong enough to take difficult decisions. Just as I flew back, I received a call again. This time mummy had a seizure attack. It was difficult and more challenging still, as I could not say 'no, I can't come back' and neither could I take my Krishna along with me. So, it was time to act, time to fly back and this time without my little baby, he who means the world to me. On one side, there were these reflections from my past, my childhood, an old mother who taught me once how to walk, talk and made endless sacrifices to be what I am today. And on the other, was the little future in my arms, the one for whom I am the world. Krishna had not stayed without me for a single day even once. Completely pampered and loved, I was unsure if he had the strength to be without me. To ease my decision-making, smilingly my husband said that in their native language, they say, one should neither take care of the old as they die, nor the children, as they forget everything once they grow up. I retorted, so who should one look after. Teasingly, he replied, of course the young, as they will live long enough to remember the service that someone once did to them. The parable did make it easier for me to make a decision. Praying that Krishna will not remember in a few months time, that he was without mummy at some point of time and that sometimes papa-son should have a date too, I flew back once more. It was mummy who was in one of the most crucial stages of her life and perhaps she needed me much more, at this one precise moment.

As I sit and wait for the outcome of the operation, it is not the fear of the operation that fears me. More fearsome is the outcomes that the operation may bring along, any further challenges that life may have in store. Hopping against hope, I pray and watch; for hope is the quintessential enigma that keeps us all alive and living.