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Ala walks in to the bedroom and stares, completely blank. An old woman looks up from the bed and asks, “What do you want?”

Cupboards line the walls, the fan hangs from the ceiling and light shines through window. “I forgot,” Ala says.

She asks, “So what was it?”

A moment later, they burst out lauging.

She has Parkinsons. It invites laughter, sometimes.

Ala is blanking. Maybe, there’ll be laughter here, someday.

Ageing has its moments of mirth. To find them, is to find bubbles of air in an underwater cave.


Published by appamprawns

soni writes about children and people in controlled spaces, in his quest for appam stew. homi writes in the hope of being able to buy prawns to make patiyo.

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