Ignorance

There she stood, at the front door of the house waiting for her grandchildren to arrive. Clad in an orange saree with white embroidered flowers matching the colour of her hair, wearing her 50 year old red lakh chudis, her eyes convey the eagerness with which she was standing cool and calm in the hot summer with not even a drop of sweat and irritation.

In the next moment you could see her grandchildren had arrived and she opened the front door to them asking-“So how was your day”. The grandchildren went straight inside the house without even acknowledging the orange clad lady, but she still wore the smile.

She then fed them patiently even when the children were talking continuously but not to her.

Soon after the parents could be found home who also followed the same strategy in treating their mother.

The night fell as rapidly as her old age had, at the dinner table when she didn’t turned up, nobody even bothered to look into her room.

They could for sure hear her, calling out their name, but they followed dinner without any interruptions.

The next morning her laid out dinner plate was found untouched on the kitchen slab and nobody bothered to look up into her room until they smelt that something was rotting. She didn’t died of age, she died of IGNORANCE.