So, I am at MIT for their big commencement weekend, but it's my mother who sends me an email titled, 'I am thoroughly plastered'. Eh? Shouldn't that be my line?
I was checking this on the tiny ipod screen, so I looked again. Yep, it was from Amma. No doubt about that.
Odd.
By this time, they had started playing the ja-ja-ja-JAaaen music - the graduating class was entering. I listened to the valedictorian's speech, the dean's non-speech (there is a guy in the class who says he got his degree just by imitating the dean - 'This boy, Rob? He shall pass'), one thatha's speech (he's been at MIT for almost 60 yrs! After spending the last three years in three different countries, I am oddly fascinated by this story), a violin-piano duet and contributed to the final cheer when the class stood up. Good job, Sam!
In the night, I checked my email again. Amma had broken 4 bones in her foot. And now had her leg up in an enormous cast. She had emailed me and my aunt to give us the details. Me, well, because I think I have scared her a little. If I had heard from someone else, I would have thrown an unholy tantrum (Yes, I am quite the soul of consideration. It has been the main topic of conversation in many family gatherings - 'Indha mokka mookuku ivlo kovam vendaame'). My aunt 'cause she is our ministering angel. Family doctor is such an inadequate term.
After I read it, I was more amazed than concerned. She could have just lain around and gotten pampered but had written a nice, cheerful email instead. And snuck in a joke.
Whatever it is
that makes her like this,
I fervently hope
is hereditary.
