"Sivaangi, what are you doing," my mom, Kani, asked yelling at the top of her lungs.
After my return to my parents' house, I was forced to lie down, relax and watch TV. I think the word "rest" was not very well understood by my parents, as the two of them wouldn't let me do anything other than stand on the couch until the doctor says I'm fine.
"Matha Ji, I just want to help wash the dishes. I can let you do all the work. I mean......look at you and your back pain, I mean you guys don't go along well, so......," I said biting back the chuckle that was erupting from my mouth.
"Adingu...," my mom said taking the broomstick that was near her.
"We already talked about it, Kanna. You are sick....Do you want me to get killed by your husband," she said concerned, lowering the broomstick making me sigh in relief.
"Amma, I may be a little weak, but that doesn't mean I'm sick. I can wash the dishes while you do the laundry. It won't take my life," I snorted, already getting impatient for my Matha Ji to insist so much that I stay planted in the living room.
"All right," she took a deep breath before continuing.
"I'm just worried about you. Since the accident, you've been living with a headache. And every time, I took you to the doctor, they always have been giving bad news. In one of the consultations, the doctor told me that in your case, the headache could mean the loss, little by little, of your memory, which made me extremely worried, but that never happened. That's why I calmed down on your visits to the doctor, but now....," she stopped in the middle when her voice broke, showing that she was about to cry.
"It's ok now, amma. I'm here, just fine," I said as I hugged her tight, wanting her pain to go away.
My eyes watered as I remembered that this was all my fault.
