NO INSURANCES IN LOVE
“Hello?”
“Hello! Ma!”
“Ravi! How’re you son? How is Usha? I was hoping you’d call.”
“We’re doing fine. How are you and papa?”
“Hmm… Carrying on….I wanted to discuss a matter with you.” Phone in hand, she hobbled across the hall and gently closed the door of the room.
“I had something to discuss with you too. Where’s papa?”
“Gone for a walk.” She hoped he had not heard his father’s incessant coughing and wheezing.
“Oh!” A shroud of darkness suddenly blinded her, forcing her to slump on the sofa. A cavernous voice was asking, “Ma, I had sent money through Western Transfer, instructing papa to invest in specific shares. Did he do it?”
“He must have.” She hated talking about dollars. It had magnetism enough to separate the only son from his parents.
“Can’t a software engineer do well here, in India?” she had asked.
“Maybe, but my career prospects there will be brighter.”
She had then refrained from recounting the number of good job offers she had refused. “I don’t mind settling for the second best. I need time for my family too. My son’s future is equally important to me,” she had maintained then.
Her past…his future…present imperfect.
“What did you want to discuss?” she reminded him.
“You know Usha is due by June end. Could you come over for the delivery and stay with us for a few months?” She had guessed this would be coming.
“Can’t she come and deliver in India?”
“She can. But we want the baby to have American citizenship.”
‘Oh!...I suppose we could come…but not for too long.” she agreed not wanting to disappoint him.
“That’s wundderful!... But ma…dad may have to stay back in India.”
“Dad here and me there?! Who will take care of him here? He needs someone to take care of him..and why can’t he come?”
“Umm…his multiple medical problems-“
“So what? He will suffer them there as he is doing here.”
“No. That’s not the point... He won’t get medical insurance.”
“Uhm...So?”
“Maa..If he gets sick here and needs hospitalization, insurance wont pay. I will have to shell out money from my pocket.”
She recalled a similar situation.
“Mr. and Mrs. Ram, I’m sorry. The accident has left your son with multiple fractures. He will need three to four surgeries over the next six months.”
“Please go ahead Doctor.”
“The cost may run to a few lakhs… have medical insurance for him, do you?” He had looked at the desperate couple with sympathy.
“No. There is no insurance, but we’ll try and manage. We want him back, at any cost, fit and healthy.” He had said, not sure from where they could garner such fancy money. She sold her jewels, he worked overtime, they pledged their Life Insurance bonds, borrowed from their provident fund and took personal loans ignoring the exorbitant interest rates…..
“Ma?”
“Yes, son.”
“I could ask someone to take care of him in India while you are here.”
“Who?”
“I’ve talked to an old age home…they seem to be caring people.” He had zeroed in on their final destination.
“OK. I’ll talk to your father.”
“Thanks ma. Take care!” He had forgotten to ask her what it was that she had wanted to discuss with him.
She smiled as she set down the receiver. In the next few days, her son would be refusing to have her in USA as well. “Mrs. Ram, you seem to be having a serious problem…Ummm…suspicious of a cerebral
tumor. Could you come for a CT scan this Friday?” the doctor at the hospital had told her yesterday.
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| Three is a crowd (Pastels on paper) |
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