Guiding light

On my daughters arranging my future 

Of late the kids have been musing over my departure. Not to a mall or airport but the grand goodbye. I have been an old woman to them from the time they met me. One daughter accompanies me with all the gravitas of a caretaker, giving me a careful onceover before leaving the house: take keys, sunglasses, has mom worn clothes. While privately I believe in my own immortality, they expect me to keel over any minute. Difficult to catch hold of me, they say, as I’m always at a funeral.

I chose cremation over burial when they asked as if I had given it some thought, but there’s some confusion over my ashes now. My suggestion that these be divided between the two daughters was met with an awkward silence. I broke into childhood memories of a pond in Ollur I used to frolic in, and suggested immersing the ashes there. Too far, ma, was the clipped answer. Okay, I snapped, any lake in Bangalore will do. ‘We could get arrested for littering,’ say they. As they are still grappling with this, I am under strict orders not to perish till it’s sorted. They are also working on a guest list. If I grumble about a friend, they quickly scratch out the name. Henceforth talking highly of everyone I know.

The one thing I can do effortlessly and with some amount of speed is ageing. I am now only concerned about spines while reading romances. Find a good mattress, I tell the protagonists. Love happens all the time, but we have only one vertebral column. And while I find older people too free with their health details, I’m fascinated by my own knee pain and limp till someone asks. Some things I’m super sharp about, but some things…what was I saying?

Nobody wishes for a long lingering farewell. Unlike film heroes shot in the head but still able to give a coherent and complete speech, I want to go as an incomplete mystery, where my last words could hint at a homicidal past or at least a large embezzlement. ‘I’m Elena Ferrante’ was a favourite, but she may keep writing novels after I go. ‘You look the type who will have a lot of dramatic things to say on your deathbed,’ says daughter. ‘When you see the light, just walk into it. Don’t start describing it.’