My father’s ageing has made me tender hearted to the elderly. This is good because I’ll be in that age group soon.
I remember him saying one evening this March, “Zarina (ammi), I’ve become alone. I’m alone.” Just being frail, bedridden, and mentally wandering makes it harder for him to join the party. Everyone goes to work, parties, shop, chat, while he’s too weak to come along.
This March, after a ten-day stay, I had to move from my parents’ home to a conference hotel in Lahore. But to simplify it for abbu’s mind, I told him we were leaving for the airport and flying out. As we prepared to load into cars and leave for PC Hotel 30 minutes away, abbu limped over and got his sneakers. He put them on, painstakingly slow with the shoelaces. And with a heartbreakingly eager smile and a pitifully determined mien, he said…
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