The Beast in My Mother’s Breast

First Person

The Beast in My Mother’s Breast

Illustration: Juergen Dsouza/ Arré

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arly in February 2010, when I asked my mother if she wanted to go for a movie, she shrugged and nodded her head vaguely. It was an uncharacteristic reaction. My mother was never vague about anything. When I put forth a choice of movies before her, the response was exactly the same shrug followed by the nod. Again, I was surprised. My mother has always been definitive in the choices that she makes – whether it’s a matter of moving cities or watching a film. Anyway, we went to the nearest multiplex and the movie we ended up watching was 3 Idiots.

While I was engrossed with the film, I kept checking on her intermittently, only to find her staring blankly at the screen. When she saw me observing her, she responded with a beaming smile, happy to have caught my attention. She didn’t talk much nor did she find any scene funny or moving. It was obvious that she wasn’t following the movie.

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