The Afterlife: Blogisode 2 (The Phone Call Earlier)
Copyright (C), Puneet Gupta, 2015
Previous Blogisode: http://culture-curry.blogspot.in/2015/12/the-afterlife-episode-1-evening-tea.html
He: The tea is good.She: Of course it is. Isn’t it always?He: Yes, precisely. It always is.She: Then why state it?He: You mean it’s redundant?She: One may think.He: But it needs stating that the tea is good. She: Why?He: Well, if I don't you wouldn’t know that it is good. She: But I know it’s good.He: But you don’t know that I think it’s good too.She: But I do know that. Very well. You’ve been telling me for the last four years, stupid.He: And you would not have known if I hadn’t told you. Precisely my point.She starts to smile, and then breaks into a hearty chuckle.He: Why are you giggling? What’s so funny? And why am I stupid?She: Because it is funny - we are fighting as if...uh...He: As if?Oh, as if we are...He joins in the laughter and they enjoy a few silent sips of tea thereafter.She: I heard Bahadur call out for you earlier. What was that about?He: A phone call.She: For you? Who called?He: Adi.She: Oh... Why? I mean...why now?He: He needed...She: Of course he needed something. Why would he call otherwise?He: Don’t get so upset.She: Why shouldn’t I?He: Its okay. Anyways, he was asking me if I would reconsider. She: Really? I thought he had given up.He: I did too. Though, I must admit that I was quite choked to hear his voice, his pleas to convince me.She: Well, it’s your decision. But I wouldn’t...He: You wouldn’t what?She: Don't get angry with me. I am just saying.He: What ARE you saying?She: That you took a decision. He needs to accept that.He: Hasn’t he? All he is trying to do is...is...is to be my son. She: He IS your son.He: And he loves me.She: Like he should.He: The point is - whether I like it or not, whether I admit it or not - my choices affect him. He wants be a part of this. He wants to help. He feels guilty.She: But this is not about him.He: May be it is, a little.She: But he isn’t the one who is...He: Don’t say it! Please. I don’t like to hear it.She: I know. It makes it all too real.He: Perhaps.She: So...?He: So what?She: What did you tell him?He: What I could - I told him I would think about it.She: There is nothing to think about. Do you want to go through all that again?He: I don’t want to. But what if I am being too selfish? He is my son.She: And he has a lovely wife to take care of him. You have done enough.He: But he doesn’t want me to take care of him. You’ve got it all in reverse. He wants to be there...when...it happens.She: It’s not that you can give him an appointment for that.He: Don’t be sarcastic. You know what I mean.She: Oh, I do.She: But he should know that you need a place like this to...to...He: May be.She: May be?He: Yeah. May be. May be not. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad if I had stayed with him.She: But you know why you did this.He: He has not seen me in the last three years. He has come so many times, but I never allow him to see me.She: So, he hasn’t?He: No. I doubt if he would even recognize me now.She: You mean without the hair?He: Yes, and the skin. And the walking stick.She: It’s perhaps better this way.He: That’s why I don’t want to go back. He shouldn’t see this.She: Who am I so say?He: Why are you being so irritable today? She: Who? Me? What nonsense? I am fine with whatever you decide. It’s your son, it’s your life.As she says the word life, they both exchange a glance, and smile at the irony of the situation. They resume sipping their tea. He bends to pick up the chudwa. She dips the Marie biscuit into the hot tea and takes a soft bite. They stare into the evening as the sun sets into the horizon.
Previous Blogisode: http://culture-curry.blogspot.in/2015/12/the-afterlife-episode-1-evening-tea.html
He: The tea is good.She: Of course it is. Isn’t it always?He: Yes, precisely. It always is.She: Then why state it?He: You mean it’s redundant?She: One may think.He: But it needs stating that the tea is good. She: Why?He: Well, if I don't you wouldn’t know that it is good. She: But I know it’s good.He: But you don’t know that I think it’s good too.She: But I do know that. Very well. You’ve been telling me for the last four years, stupid.He: And you would not have known if I hadn’t told you. Precisely my point.She starts to smile, and then breaks into a hearty chuckle.He: Why are you giggling? What’s so funny? And why am I stupid?She: Because it is funny - we are fighting as if...uh...He: As if?Oh, as if we are...He joins in the laughter and they enjoy a few silent sips of tea thereafter.She: I heard Bahadur call out for you earlier. What was that about?He: A phone call.She: For you? Who called?He: Adi.She: Oh... Why? I mean...why now?He: He needed...She: Of course he needed something. Why would he call otherwise?He: Don’t get so upset.She: Why shouldn’t I?He: Its okay. Anyways, he was asking me if I would reconsider. She: Really? I thought he had given up.He: I did too. Though, I must admit that I was quite choked to hear his voice, his pleas to convince me.She: Well, it’s your decision. But I wouldn’t...He: You wouldn’t what?She: Don't get angry with me. I am just saying.He: What ARE you saying?She: That you took a decision. He needs to accept that.He: Hasn’t he? All he is trying to do is...is...is to be my son. She: He IS your son.He: And he loves me.She: Like he should.He: The point is - whether I like it or not, whether I admit it or not - my choices affect him. He wants be a part of this. He wants to help. He feels guilty.She: But this is not about him.He: May be it is, a little.She: But he isn’t the one who is...He: Don’t say it! Please. I don’t like to hear it.She: I know. It makes it all too real.He: Perhaps.She: So...?He: So what?She: What did you tell him?He: What I could - I told him I would think about it.She: There is nothing to think about. Do you want to go through all that again?He: I don’t want to. But what if I am being too selfish? He is my son.She: And he has a lovely wife to take care of him. You have done enough.He: But he doesn’t want me to take care of him. You’ve got it all in reverse. He wants to be there...when...it happens.She: It’s not that you can give him an appointment for that.He: Don’t be sarcastic. You know what I mean.She: Oh, I do.She: But he should know that you need a place like this to...to...He: May be.She: May be?He: Yeah. May be. May be not. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad if I had stayed with him.She: But you know why you did this.He: He has not seen me in the last three years. He has come so many times, but I never allow him to see me.She: So, he hasn’t?He: No. I doubt if he would even recognize me now.She: You mean without the hair?He: Yes, and the skin. And the walking stick.She: It’s perhaps better this way.He: That’s why I don’t want to go back. He shouldn’t see this.She: Who am I so say?He: Why are you being so irritable today? She: Who? Me? What nonsense? I am fine with whatever you decide. It’s your son, it’s your life.As she says the word life, they both exchange a glance, and smile at the irony of the situation. They resume sipping their tea. He bends to pick up the chudwa. She dips the Marie biscuit into the hot tea and takes a soft bite. They stare into the evening as the sun sets into the horizon.
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