Walking through the chaotic lanes, I twice checked all the deeds to be executed. Mutton for the kitchen, and
a kurta for Abba, along with other household stuff. Strange things, these responsibilities, will pester you no
matter what. I remember being in the 8th grade, laughing and telling my friends how irresponsible
I was; we all were. 28 years old today and none remains the same. I am more responsible now,
know everything required at home- the price, the tags, the bills- it all stays with me. Abba is old, walking
without his wooden stick with an eagle top is difficult for him. Amma remains by my side but doesn't
interfere. Abba would be angry if he knew she sides with me and not him. I no longer talk to
Abba about her; every time I try, he cries himself to sleep. The sleeping is good because then I can talk to
Amma without him asking whom I'm talking to. Amma tells me about all a woman should do &
shouldn't do; her shouldn'ts, though quite objectionable, are never questioned by me. A pause annoys her; she goes back to the den she appeared from. She is with me dictating the exact amount of mutton I should buy and what color Abba's kurta should be.
The shopkeeper, though, doesn't seem to notice her at all. I tell myself she is here for my eyes only, I am the lucky one.