Leelavati adjusted her eyes to the first rays of early morning sunshine streaming into the hallway. She sat on her daybed in the south east corner of the living room; across the room she could see Pavithra’s petite silhouette brewing coffee in the kitchen. ‘Pavithra’ she called out feebly, her voice cracking even before she could finish her daughter-in-law’s name. She continued rotating invisible prayer beads nimbly through her fingers, it was a gesture that happened simply out of muscle memory—one of the many little things that portrayed four decades of her daily routine.  She patiently waited for a coffee that she knew would never come; Pavithra had become cold and indifferent to her lately, perhaps a consequence of all the years of unresolved petty squabbles. She was only glad her daughter-in-law wasn’t one of those venomous kind who usurped all her jewels, brainwashed her son and abandoned her in an old age home.  The nutty smell of freshly brewed coffee was wafting through the house, an aroma tempting enough to wake even the dead from their grave. Her older grandson Vivek walked in clutching a fat textbook. ‘Amma, coffee, please, he said as he sat down next to her, deeply immersed in all the complex diagrams and formulas spread across the pages. Leelavati watched him amused as his spectacled nose almost touched the book; she reached out to gently caress his hair. She retracted her hand when she saw another smaller figure entering the drawing room. The figure immediately entered the dimly lit altar, placed her hall ticket under Lord Krishna’s feet and muttered a prayer followed by a whispering of her role number, section and exam hall number. Leelavati chuckled, It was her younger granddaughter – Asha. Unlike Vivek, Asha relied solely on the miracles of the supreme lord on her exam days. She was grinning as she continued watching Asha’s exam day antics when she saw her son Ramu walking into the room. She could feel her smile fading away instantly when she saw his vacant eyes, shoulders drooping as he walked in slowly, sitting next to a window with its glorious sunshine, gazing at a wall. She was surprised at how old her Ramu suddenly looked! It feels like yesterday that he was born with his rosy cheeks and gurgling laughter, yet here he was a man in his fifties, weighed down by all the pressure that came in a world filled with corporate laws, taxes, loans and complexities that Leelavati couldn’t even begin to comprehend. 
Pavithra handed Ramu a steaming cup of coffee, he took it with a relieved sigh. ‘You look tired,’ she said. ‘I didn’t sleep much,’ he replied simply. ‘Why don’t you take a day off?’ ‘I’ve already taken a fortnight’s worth of paid leave, I have to go back to work.’ ‘Maybe some distraction is what you need right now. Lord knows, I could use a break from this house,’ she said. This stung Leelavati, it somehow made her feel like an insignificant burden on them.
She watched Ramu rubbing his tired eyes, she thought they looked watery. Has he been crying? Is Pavithra making him choose between his wife and mother? Perhaps she was going to throw her into an old age home after all, wretched woman. 
Pavithra massaged his back ‘I’m always there for you but you have to be strong, Ramu. How do you think amma would feel seeing you like this?’ 
Leelavati’s eyes softened. She was being too harsh on her, Pavi had been her friend and confidante through everything. She smacked her head for letting melodramatic daily soaps with their ludicrous perspectives on family and relationships influence her thoughts. She was never one to enjoy Indian serial soaps but boredom had her watching too many of those at the neighbour’s place over the last few days. 
She got up from her bed, a custom made foldable one that Ramu got her two years back when she had a stroke. Vivek and Asha would constantly sit with her, talking about their day at school like nothing had changed, even as she slowly inched towards paralysis. Pavi would feed her, bathe her, and dress her like she was a toddler. Ramu would bring home local newspapers every evening, patiently reading out the news, even the gossip columns. It was hard to express the sense of gratitude she felt for her family for treating her with dignity when everybody else had lost their hopes and considered her a mere vegetable. She walked over to where Pavi and Ramu were sitting and gazed at the wall behind them. She saw her own face smiling down at her, wearing her favourite blue saree with its green peacock embellishments. She was adorned with a rose garland and a small oil lamp burned steadily next to her framed photograph.
‘I have overstayed my welcome. It felt easier to continue in denial than to accept this would be the last time I would ever be seeing you all again. I hope you get to experience the kind of unwavering affection each one of you poured on me.’ She gently touched the foreheads of her son and daughter-in-law, before walking out of the door and disappearing into the dazzlingly golden sunlight. 
Ramu touched the back of his neck wondering what the sudden tingling sensation running down his spine was; while Pavi stared at the open door. She could’ve sworn that she just saw a brief glimmer of light in the porch.