“ I cannot stay here any longer. Take me to the old age home in Haridwar. Buy my ticket today”, Santha said to her son. “Why  maate?” he asked, using the Sanskrit word for mother which he was wont to do now and then, especially as an expression of  endearment. “I just cannot stay here any longer”, she repeated. “But why?” asked Manav wondering what had happened so suddenly to warrant such an outburst.

Manav was the only son of his parents after three sisters and the onus of taking care of his parents naturally rested upon him. So after his father had retired from a distinguished service in the Railways, he asked his parents to come and stay with him. They had been extremely happy with this invitation and promptly moved in with him after renting out their own flat. Manav had a beautiful duplex house in an upmarket locality of Delhi. He was the President of a software company and was earning handsomely.

 This house he had bought a couple of years ago and had proudly shown visitors around when they came calling. His parents loved the little garden that his wife had made in the north west corner of the house. Maya, his wife had an eye for beauty. She had done up the house beautifully and though she too was a busy career woman, she kept strict vigil on the duties given to the servants. The result was, a well manicured lawn with multi coloured flowers, all around in huge pots that were arranged tastefully in different corners. His parents loved to sit at the tea table set underneath the gulmohur tree to spend a couple of hours with the cool evening breeze bringing relief from the sweltering heat of the day. Manav would ask them to sit in the air conditioned comfort of their room but they wanted to breathe in fresh oxygen rather than the circulated air from a ‘comfort gizmo’ as his father called all the modern appliances.

                Nina, the maid would bring in the tea tray with freshly made tea and an assortment of biscuits arranged neatly on the tray. She would pour out the tea and sometimes persuade ‘bada sahib’ to drink it, saying “Chai sehat ke liye accha hai sahib”  (tea is good for health) when he really did not feel up to it. Santha would smile indulgently at the persuasive powers of the young girl.

A couple of years went by and Santha felt they should now undertake a few pilgrimages which is what was expected of senior citizens who are physically able to do so, still being in possession of good eyesight and control over their limbs. But her husband was unwilling to move from the comfort of his son’s home. They would have long arguments on this topic. “Is punya gained only through visiting temple after temple, and  standing  for hours in long queues of foolish devotees?” he said. She would be horrified at this blasphemy and would plug her ears so as to shut out such ‘sinful’ comments. To allay her fears about retribution by the Gods he said, “You go, and earn Brownie points from the Almighty on behalf of both of us”. Reluctantly Santha undertook a couple of ‘conducted pilgrimages’ organised by the Tourist Department. She thought Revanth would miss her, feel anxious about her safety or concerned about her welfare and so agree to accompany her on her next outing. But he was as unshakable as the rock of Gibralter. Santha now began to join other ladies who went on pilgrimages to holy cities not only in and around Delhi but also to the south of India.  The beautiful temples that dotted the countryside were renowned not only for their spiritual value but also for their architectural elegance.

She  returned after a recent trip a week after the scheduled return date because she had chosen to break journey at her sister’s house in Chennai. It was true that Revanth was well looked after in her absence by the children and the maid Nina, so she was not unduly worried about him, But Revanth longed for her company and waited anxiously for her return from each of her trips and when she did not return on the said date , he became fretful.

He had developed the habit of sleeping for a couple of hours after lunch, for there was nothing else to do. Santha however could never sleep in the afternoons. She spent some time in the balcony, flipping through the latest magazines, of which there were quite a number in the  magazine holder kept beside the book shelf in the ‘library’ which was actually the landing on the first floor. After a while she went towards the bedroom to watch some TV. Was that Nina who was hurrying out of the room? Why was she here at this hour? Was she scurrying away on hearing her approach? Why was she avoiding her eye?

Revanth was lying asleep on the bed. As she looked at him now she felt deep disgust. Was this why he had refused to join her on the pilgrimages to Kasi, Haridwar and Kedarnath? Was the young maid so attractive as to make him give up all sense of morals and propriety? Was he having a jolly good time with her whenever she was away?  She could make out the imprint on the bedsheet of someone who had sat there. Why had he permitted her to sit on his bed?  Surely, he was not a Gandhi, testing his vow of celibacy?

She recalled the scene at the dining table some months ago. Nina stood close to Revanth, her body touching his, and as she served him some rajma and rice. he held her hand to restrain her. Now as she dwelt on the scene, she distinctly remembered the look exchanged between them. It was the same  look she saw in his eyes when  she and her husband had their private moments in their newly married years. It was certainly not the look between master and servant.

Was it possible to hate someone whom one had loved so dearly? Was this the same man who had rebelled against his parents to marry the girl of his choice whom they had spurned because the dowry her parents offered was insubstantial? Was this the man who had gazed at the beauty of her ‘Grecian features’ while she gazed in awe at the Taj Mahal? Was this the man with whom she had had four children? Is the libido so invincible even at this age as to make an old man go all weak- kneed at the sight of youthful beauty? The thought of spending time in the same room with him filled her with revulsion. He had betrayed her.

       Manav was at his wits end about how to deal with this problem. He called up his sister Megha who also lived in Delhi and apprised her of the development. She came down ‘to find out’ how her parents were, and sat with her mother for a long time hoping she would pour her heart out to her. After all, it’s only with daughters that mothers share their innermost thoughts without fear of being judged. Megha hit a stone wall here. No amount of discreet or even direct questioning yielded any response and the reason for her mother’s behaviour remained under wraps. Megha left, giving her brother the clichéd consolation--“Don’t worry, time is a great healer.”

  But neither time nor remonstrations by her son made Santha change her mind. She had to leave,she said and pestered him to book her ticket.

Revanth was equally confused and bewildered at this change in his wife’s attitude. Why was she refusing to sit and chat with him? Had they not shared every thought that occurred to each other? What was it that was bothering her?  When Manav was about to go and book her ticket his father said “Buy two tickets. I cannot let her go alone. Manav said, “Dad, let her go, I am sure she will come back soon.” But Revanth refused to let her go alone. He said, “I will go with her. She has no one there to take care of her. So buy two tickets.” Santha was horrified at the thought that Revanth would accompany her but could do nothing because she did not want a public brawl.

They stayed in the old age home in a room which had threadbare furnishing—Two spring cots lined with a thin mattress each, a table and two chairs. Meals were taken at the common dining hall. Food too was simple  ------a far cry from the well balanced meal that they used to have at Manav’s house. . Efforts by Revanth to draw her out into conversation were met with a stoic silence, or she would leave the room.

 Revanth began to lose weight. Some days he refused to go to the dining room at meal time. Santha would have his food sent to their room by one of the helpers at the home. She would come to the room to find he had not touched the food. But she was unmoved and removed the plate when flies started buzzing around it. They lived like strangers in that room. Long years of togetherness draws couples closer to each other and dependence on each other increases, they say, but here animosity hung like a separator between them.

Manav and Megha visited them from time to time and begged them to return to Delhi, but Santha was adamant and Revanth could only look sadly at his wife and children.         

One day, Manav got a telephone call saying his father was very sick. He rushed to Haridwar with determination to use force if necessary to bring them back. Unfortunately, before he reached, his father breathed his last. Manav was devastated. He looked at his mother. She seemed unaware of the tragedy that had occurred. In a daze she went through the rituals that preceded Revanth’s final journey to eternity.

After the obsequies Manav told his mother that she would have to come back with him to Delhi. He was surprised that she did not demur. They returned to Delhi and to their routine lives. His mother was alone in the room that used to be occupied by his parents. She seemed to be physically alright though she too had lost a lot of weight. He would try and spend time with her when he returned from work in the evening. She would tell him the latest news about his sisters, that she got through her telephone conversations with her daughters. Of late, she had begun to start the conversation with “Did I tell you.......” and retell the same incidents again and again. Was her memory failing her? He remembered reading that this was a common symptom of old age. But it did not stop with that. She began ‘seeing’ things. She would tell him that Megha had visited that afternoon and then recount past incidents when in fact Megha was out of station. Alarm bells rang and Manav decided to take her to a doctor.

The specialist whom they consulted after the initial diagnosis by a General Physician confirmed the fact that his mother was suffering from hallucination, added to which Alzheimers had set in. “This is a disease for which no cure has been found to date”, said the specialist. It is a disease that gets progressively worse and care takers can only ensure that the patient’s physical needs are looked after”. Manav realized that they had failed to recognize early warning symptoms which a brain scan confirmed, had started a year ago. Wasn’t this the time Santha had wanted to leave the house?

Helplessly, Manav watched his mother becoming small and frail. Nobody would recognize her now. She could barely lift her arm to feed herself so nurses were arranged to feed and bathe her. Her memory failed completely and she could not recognize her own family. And so she lives on, blissfully unaware of the turmoil she had caused in the lives of her dear ones.