Our neighbour-our focal point

Morning activity starts around five in the morning,the place is swept and washed and breakfast is on the fire ready for the old lady to get out of bed.At round seven thirty she is out sitting in her favourite chair watching the world go by.One might wonder whats so unusual about all this.The point is that she is our neighbour and our lives are inexplicably linked to hers.No conversations pass between us,no talk at all but we have a direct view of her home and all her activities.

I can remember her from her pattu saree days.She was the most dreaded figure on the street,from vegetable man to street dog no one messed with her.Over the years with ill health and years passing by the pattu saree has given way to a night dress.On occasions when she goes out a dupatta goes on.On the rare occasion that a wedding has to be attended the pattu saree comes out.

Our day begins with watching her,its habit to see her sitting there and doing her thing.To all our guests she is a focal point.Everyone who has at some point stayed with us will enquire about her if she is missing from her post.Two days ago we didn't see her,the house was locked and there was no sign of activity.The next day she was missing again.A pall of gloom descended over our household.Somehow the thought of not seeing her was like a vacuum.Considering we have known her for over thirty odd years(having lived on the same street) but have never bothered to so much as say hello,I find it rather strange.The anxiety was heightened by the fact that too many of her children were around and everyone had grave faces.

Finally I cornered the daughter in law and found out that she was in hospital .My concern was quickly brushed aside by the daughter in law who claimed that the hospital would be more than glad to send her home(she had been yelling at all the staff and generally throwing her weight around)and that she was certain that the old lady would be home before we knew it.She added that she was a witch so there was no need for me to loose sleep over her.Well she ought to know considering she lives with her.

This morning right as rain,she was up and about,yelling at her son to fetch and carry for her like nothing had changed.She is 90 years old and I hope she lives to be a hundred,because in her I see my own mortality(her eldest son continues to fetch and carry and put up with here constant yelling and I doubt if he will thank me for this post).