The Bp shoots up, I pop a pill. An hour later, my heart races…breathlessness. I call up everyone I know. Day goes by, I try to speak to the relative but there is no response as usual. ‘If today was your last day?’, asks my palpitating heart. More calls…just nonsensical chit chat. ‘How come you thought of me Di?’asks one relative. ‘Generally, felt like talking,’ lies SC. The sphygmomanometer still shows the diastolic levels at a 111 in the evening even after the med. I look for mom’s pics…go through one image after another, to find these.

‘Doctor ke paas chalo’, says the servant. I remind him of last times fiasco. SB’s ego wins the round, while SC clings to the images.