In the wee hours of the 16th, Dadaji noticed that Dadiji was breathing in a very laboured way. He tried waking her up but that also did not seem to work for a while. Naturally, an alarm went up in his mind - and ours in Delhi, where I was due to attend an official conference in the day - and it was decided that her condition warranted a closer look by the doctors. Hence, even before dawn broke, she was shipped to the Army's hospital, Dadaji bravely in tow.
The good news is that after comprehensive tests and observations for three days, the doctors have deduced that it was just one of those things, a bit of an aberration, and that she is fit enough to be discharged. Which is just as well because with the passage of each moment, she was getting more restive than a child waiting for school's closing bell! The fact that she had a private 'VIP' room did not help as she would have preferred the company of a couple of patients, each sharing her chronicle of medical experience! And that solitary small TV, mounted on the wall, could not keep her attention either - her daily dose of soaps is no longer acceptable on a small-screen TV.
So here she is, posing for me. Don't let that pensive look fool you - that has been her chosen stare for all cameras since 1930!
And now, three days of suspense later, she is back, all set for the 5 PM tea and string of her favourite tear-jerkers on the TV that tell us all that we don't want to know about relationships and are always bursting on the seams with melodrama and nerve-jangling music.
The picture below was taken as she reached home and stepped out of the car - looking every bit a general who has returned after vanquishing an army of foes. Hence the upright flag on the chariot!
The good news is that after comprehensive tests and observations for three days, the doctors have deduced that it was just one of those things, a bit of an aberration, and that she is fit enough to be discharged. Which is just as well because with the passage of each moment, she was getting more restive than a child waiting for school's closing bell! The fact that she had a private 'VIP' room did not help as she would have preferred the company of a couple of patients, each sharing her chronicle of medical experience! And that solitary small TV, mounted on the wall, could not keep her attention either - her daily dose of soaps is no longer acceptable on a small-screen TV.
So here she is, posing for me. Don't let that pensive look fool you - that has been her chosen stare for all cameras since 1930!
And now, three days of suspense later, she is back, all set for the 5 PM tea and string of her favourite tear-jerkers on the TV that tell us all that we don't want to know about relationships and are always bursting on the seams with melodrama and nerve-jangling music.
The picture below was taken as she reached home and stepped out of the car - looking every bit a general who has returned after vanquishing an army of foes. Hence the upright flag on the chariot!
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