Several years ago hubby dear and I were visiting Chennai and staying with a dear family friend. Aunty S lived on the first floor of a small little house near T Nagar. As we sat on her over stuffed sofa , I couldn’t help but notice all her ancestors neatly lined on the walls staring down at us. Seeing my eyes dart upwards, she said
“What to do, yeverybody dead. First my daddy died, then mummy, then uncle’s daddy and mummy. This is Uncle’s granny and his brother. And that is my brother. Last year my wolder sister also died and now Uncle has also gone. What to do? Yeveryday I look and see and think of them?”she said solemnly shaking her head and barely holding back her tears.” One day I vill also become photo on wall.”

Ever since that day I always think of people dying and becoming photos on the wall.

Last week I heard of an acquaintance passing away and was wondering whether to go for the condolence meeting. It was just as well I didn’t because this morning I saw his widow and daughter climbing up the staircase in the Club and actually sharing some kind of a joke between them. Perhaps it was good they have got over their loss but I felt stupid in going forward to condole so I just let them be……

Then this evening when I walked down to the Tailor’s I was shocked to see my old tailor had become a photo on the wall ! He was only 45 and had no history of bad health. All he had was a pain in the chest and a premonition that his time had come. So he took some medicine for the pain and just lay down till his heart stopped ticking.

It’s strange to think how soon one can become a photo on the wall.