Inspiring
Sustainable
Co-Habitation

Departure at Noon

“I’ve spent my entire life babysitting a grown man with talent for poetry and the emotional depth of a teaspoon.” Devika sighed, her voiced laced with bitter wit. “Sure, he can string words into magic on the paper, but when it comes to being a good brother, husband or father—he’s always on a short-circuit. How can someone be so stone-hearted to ignore and reject his new born son for months? She paused, her wrinkles getting more pronounced and eyes glistening. “Perhaps I enabled him, fed his ego. Look at him—still expecting applauses and batting away responsibilities.” I held her soft, warm, time-worn hands and could feel her deep resentment through her watery eyes and parched lips. It’s a strange ache, to watch your mother carry decades of disappointment, wearing it each day. Especially now, in the twilight of her long luminous struggle.