In Bequest and Memoriam
“Doc, call on your personal line. It’s your mother.” Glancing at the clock, he wonders, “at this time? The night is long dead back in India by now!” Alarmed, he replies, “Thank you Anna” and connects to the line, his lone connection back to his roots. “Adi, Mummy here.” “Hi Mummy. It must be really late back at home. What happened?” “It’s your father. He’s no more among us.” And with that, a statement put forth as an offhanded, matter of fact remark, Aditya is stunned to silence. His mother, gives him a couple of minutes to recompose. “I’m so sorry Mummy. I wish you didn’t have to go through his passing alone. I’ll catch the first flight out of here, but don’t wait up for me. Knowing father, he wouldn’t want his last rites delayed because of me. I’m sure Mayank uncle would oblige if you asked him to take my place.” His mother breathes out a heavy sigh, burdened with the weight of decades of discord in the two men in her life. “Just come home son.” *** As his cab zooms along t...