The pen slipped from my fingers mid-sentence and though I tried to grab it, it rolled off the table. There were a few drops of ink on the floor where it fell. Uh-ho. Saru was going to be upset by the mess. Saru is short for Saraswati. I took to calling her Saru soon after our wedding. Fifty years now if a day.

The paper I had been writing on had ink drops on it. The last letter of the last word even had a long tail. No way of fixing this. I need a fresh sheet of paper and start all over again. But first the floor.

Holding on to the sturdy table for support, I got up clumsily. My legs aren’t the eager beavers they used to be, ready to be off at a moment’s notice. So I stood there for a while, letting them get used to the idea. I needed to get the mop and clean up the ink before ‘Madam’ came barging in and complained of me dirtying her precious floor. Bah!

The walking stick was right next to the chair. But I wasn’t going to use it. It is a totally unnecessary addition, if you ask me. I am a fit man. That last fight with Saru, which incidentally I lost, was about the damn thing. Saru had insisted that I use the stick while walking, like the doctor asked, and I had responded with a biting, ‘What do you think I am, old?’ She had looked me in the eye and answered calmly, ‘Yes, you are.’

Smarting from her response I had turned and walked away in a dignified manner. It didn’t go well for me. I lost my balance and fell. What an awkward moment that was! That one incident was enough for Saru, not just her but the children too, and friends and well-wishers, the neighbours, in short, just about everyone who knew me, to insist that I use a walking stick. It’s a conspiracy I tell you, led by my doctor. And I had thought he was my friend all these years. Bah!

I’ll show them how wrong they all are! Just because I fell down that one time, and mind you, that was because I had been distracted, it didn’t mean I have no proper balance or that I need the help of a stick to walk. ‘What am I, old?’ Too late I realised there was no one to hear me. It was good that Saru was away visiting her sister. I already know what her answer would be to that question.

Ahh. There it is, the mop. Now all I have to do is wipe the ink off the floor and put the mop back in its place with none any the wiser. But things went bad too fast. I found myself flat on the floor. It’s that damned cat of course. It came out of nowhere and tripped me up and now I am unable to get up. That’s my story and I am sticking to it.

I swear it had been a cat, Saru. What was I doing in the store room? Nothing. What do you mean there is no cat? What do you think I am, blind? You didn’t have to call the ambulance. What was I doing where? Writing, what else do you think? Oh with the mop you mean. Of course there’s ink on the floor, just a few drops not a river. Don’t be so dramatic. Oh God. My back hurts, Saru. I am glad you returned earlier, Saru. Stop going on about the walking stick! Do we really need to go to the hospital, Saru? May be the doctor can give me something for the pain and I will just lie down for a bit. Oh God, it really hurts, Saru. I need to go to the hospital…did you call the ambulance?

© Shail Mohan 2023