Kinga In Oz

One of my good friends, also my roommate when we were studying in India, narrated the following true incidents :

There was a woman whom she, my friend, addressed as “Aunty”, known to be a jovial and a happy go lucky soul by nature. Once when the woman had gotten somewhat seriously ill, she had summoned her loving husband by her deathbed and told him that she was going to be no more and that she wished him happiness in life. She asked him to promise her one final wish – that he would remarry and move on. The distraught husband refused at first and showered her words of how much he loved her and that the thought of any other woman was simply unbearable. But she would not give up and tearfully begged him to fulfil her that one final wish. The husband, tearfully too, had finally relented.  They sobbed and hugged and exchanged words of endearments that they would never get to utter again.

A week later, the woman who was supposed to be dying was spotted trotting around town.

My friend had visited her once at the woman’s lavish place.  They chatted on for a while about life and stuffs when the woman asked her if she would like to have a cup of coffee, to which my friend had refused. The woman insisted time and again.

My friend had said “No, thank you Aunty. I am not so much of a coffee/tea person.”

“But you hardly come and visit me dear! I can’t let you go without having atleast a cup of tea. You must! I insist!”, the woman kept pressing.

“OK Aunty, if you insist, I will have a cup of coffee then”, said my friend.

“Great! The milk’s in the refrigerator and the sugar on the shelf!” chirped the excited woman.

I remembered these incidents because of a migraine attack I had in the morning today. I have never experienced such dreadful headache before. It felt like my head was splitting and I remembered all the people who died from headaches. My daughter was with me (it was supposed to be our day together). I called my husband and asked where the first aid kit was. Then, I told my daughter to get the kit from her daddy’s table. She went running and I thought “Thank God for you, my dear, dear child! You are the most sensible and smart kid in this entire world.” In a few minutes, she came running back with a bottle of sunscreen. I told her that was not the thing and told her to go try gain. She went in pursuit again but never came back. When I finally mustered up enough gallantry to carry my head, I found out that her focus was fixated on the cartoon show going on, on the telly.  And when I found the kit, I couldn’t read the handwriting. It occurred to me then that if words could booze, they would have to drink from the doctors’ pen. Finally, I ended up screeching at my husband over the phone, almost sounding like if he didn’t come to rescue that instant, he would see me no more – that he took leave from work and came running home, to find me a brufen tablet...