Mumma dint call today... tried her number many a time... cudnt connect...
Yesterday morning, when she called, I was delighted.. not that she called after a long while; we talk almost everyday...i was delighted because she sounded so young and so full of life?
Last few weeks had been enervating...she sounded so low.....so tired....and i hated that....she sounded like my grandmum....i know she had not been keeping well, so the tire in her voice was rather obvious...
why would i panic then? perhaps, i fear her grow old? A fear that had bothered me since i was a child...a pampered and happy child.... mumma was so beautiful....still gorgeous, though i happened to her only when she was 40...
but she had retained some of her former fairy-tale beauty...enough to make her stand out..... like the star, when there is only one in the night...
but the pleasure of her gracious sight would always be accompanied by fear...fear that she would grow old soon...she not being a 25-something mother...i would express the fears so often, serenely indifferent to how she might feel....
time rolled on...much of her beauty is now spoiled....by time, that moves with the caprice of a haughty monarch...but graceful she remains...and so the fears too.....
To see her back to health again, i was happy...but somewhere the happiness was for myself... i was happy because she dint sound old...whereas i ought to have been happy solely for her.....for having recouped... for having come back to her vivacious self....i was not, though....
Guilt strikes me....I feel bad.... I feel ashamed....I must change.....