May 1

Its May 1.

Advait reminded me.

I told him it is your birthday.

He said "But he is dead."

I have to agree. All evidence supports this conclusion. You are absent in form, spirit and even memory. When you are gone from memory-you are indeed dead.

I was shutting the door on you fast when Advait intercepted.

"How old would he have been today?"

"I don't know. Sixty or seventy something." I hazarded. I felt a sharp stab.


"Did you cry when he died?"

I nodded.

He looked intently at my face. Thats a perceptive child I tell you. At -6 my glasses are not easy to penetrate. But he did it. He saw my eyes.

"How did he die? Did he catch a cold?"

"No he fell sick and they took him to the hospital and he died." I said

"Did they try and try and try to save him? Like ET?" Effectively mixing ET and your dramatic death forever.

I nodded again.

"That's just like AShley's grandpa. He smoked. And he died. And she cried a lot."

I turned away "He smoked too" I said abruptly.

"But you are grown-ups. You know how to take care of yourself."

Boy! you would think so!!

"You are lucky! You still have you mom" he said.

Gosh! This child does not pull his punches.Can't he let me wallow for a while?

Advait came closer and hugged me. "What if Appa dies?"

"Don't worry he won't" I lied.

"Ok what if you die?" he persisted.

"Well what will you do then?"

"Don't worry mom. Appa will take care of me."

And thats that. That's all there is to it. Advaita - we are all one. No one indespensible.

But today for a tiny tiny moment, Papa, you felt indespensible.

Cheers!!!! may the best scotch reach you up there in heaven or down there in hell- wherever dads go without giving proper notice.