What I do recall are the few visits made at a few days gaps to see her late in the night cos dad used to work during the days and visit her during the evenings so sometimes I got to visit her. I really don't recall how many days she was in the hospital. What I do recall was that mom used to tell dad to treat me to an ice cream back on my way back home. What I do remember is being bought a pair of North Star shoes on one of the trips back from the hospital. And I remember that she never came back home.
As I look back I realise how difficult it must have been for dad just to come back from work to home and pick me up and take me all the way to the hospital to meet mom. No wonder it was not an everyday routine for me. Dad went everyday to see her directly from work. Now i realise how difficult it must have been for him to leave her with an external help lady and the non existant nursing help. I am glad I don't recall most of it. Years later too I recall going with dad to the hospital dept. where mom passed away spend a few minutes there and come back home quietly without a spoken word exchanged between us. It was kind of a ritual visit like the once a month that my dad used to take me for dinner to Clarks avadh and just watch me eat as I look back now it was always a chow and he used to only finish what my small tummy could not accommodate.
Because I had done those visits to the last spot with my father, I know why my sister and her husband still visit the place where they buried their few year old child, every time they visit Lucknow. The pull, the need, the desire, the want, the urge to be there where you feel your loved ones are still there physically. That's the tug of the heart that cant be resisted.
Strangely Somewhere I feel I never have the urge and if there is an urge I don't have the physical need to be there ever at that place.
So touching, you write so beautifully, there is no pretense, its so evocative. So straight from the heart.
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