Even the vapor from the coffee scared me that morning. My mind drifted to Mrs. Moorthy as the decoction mixed with the milk. She was correct in her perspective on life; she told me a lot of things I should know…
For me, the local park was heaven. I had no trouble allowing Appu to play there. He would simply go everywhere, climb the slide, enjoy the descent, and then run back, repeating the process. He would call me “Amma, I can't reach, please help me," as soon as he noticed the swing. A lot of activity in one location. While some familiar faces might politely smile, others would strike up a discussion. Some simply gazed and strolled without grinning.
Boys and adults played basketball in that group, and Appu is too little to even fit in. However, he would make an effort, and when they disregarded him, he would glance at me shyly, disappointed that he was unable to participate in the ‘Man Game.’ I would watch everything from the stone porch, and occasionally I would get lost while reading a book.
A very recognizable voice said, "Hello."
Mrs. Moorthy sat next to me, grinning beautifully. I closed the book and turned to face Appu. She grinned and said, "Busy bee, what's up?" I said that I was tired and weary from the same boring life, the same demanding job, and the same food every day. “Children?” She inquired again. I said, "The same too," and we both laughed.
“I envy you, Mrs Moorthy,” I said. I paused for a moment and said, “I love your solitude. Your children are settled abroad, and it's only you here. Getting up early, taking up responsibilities, running to buy groceries, check list on mundane tasks, you're so free from all of these.” And before she could say anything, Appu loudly called me for help. “Amma, help me swing.”
“Look,” I pointed out as I left her alone on the porch.
I played with Appu for a few minutes before returning to sit next to her. She said, “I am so envious of you. I don’t smile like you anymore,” and I could see lines of sorrow and anxiety on her forehead. I folded my hands together and sat upright. “Savour each stage of your life with these pleasures. Children mature too quickly. Don’t create dreams for them either. Let them figure out a way on their own.”
I was speechless as I waited for her to say something since I could see she was upset about something. Then she said, "When I was younger, all I cared about was what society expected of me. I thought that receiving accolades from society was the key to happiness. That's a minor aspect of life, but it doesn't become everything. I didn't show my sons any affection; I didn’t instill any values into their lives. Instead, I fed them with the sole intention of appeasing society by relocating to America and earning money. I couldn't have been a more pleased mother when my sons landed in America. I looked with startled eyes at the cash, American passports, citizenship, and visas.I was ecstatic. Years had passed, and old age had taken control. My loneliness is consuming me, and my sons will not return. I can't multitask as quickly as you, which is why I don't follow a to-do list or wake up early like you. I have no purpose in life and no network of support. Knowing that they won't come back when I most need them, I am simply waiting to go.”
It was as if a storm had just hit. I was just hit hard by life's realities. Before I could say anything, she gave me a back pat and added, "Let them go anywhere in this world, but make sure they come back to you when you most need them. Give them that idea because loneliness cannot be cured with money.” I tried to console her by holding her hand in mine. I hugged Appu and walked out with him. I just didn't turn around.
And right now, as I read the message on the chat box while sipping my coffee, I'm in complete shock. Following a fall, Mrs. Moorthy died in her home. The time of death is unknown.
Did I speak to Mrs Moorthy’s spirit yesterday?