My Mother at Sixty Six by Kamala Das
My Mother at Sixty-Six : Text: Driving from my parent’s home to Cochin last Friday morning, I saw my mother, beside me, doze, open mouthed, her face ashen like that of a corpse and realised with pain that she was as old as she looked but soon put that thought away, and looked out at Young Trees sprinting, the merry children spilling out of their homes, but after the airport’s security check, standing a few yards away, I looked again at her, wan, pale as a late winter’s moon and felt that old familiar ache, my childhood’s fear, but all I said was, see you soon, Amma, all I did was smile and smile and smile..... Summary Kamlas Das was driving to Cochin from her parent’s house. Her sixty six years old mother was with her. She looked at her mother. She was dosing. Her mouth was open. Her face was pale and colorless like a corpse. This pained her. She thought her end was near. But she did not wish to think about it. So she looked outside. By contrast, the scene outside was pleasant and chee...