DEAD WOMAN'S PHONE NUMBER
Last week, I gave a eulogy for my grandmother. I was in jitters the day before. It was unlike any speech I had done before. In my head, my word vomit in those 5 minutes would determine how she was remembered by the people who came for the funeral (at least the ones who did not know her that well). I had to verbalize a fitting legacy. But more importantly, in a childish sense, it would be the last time that I would get to talk to her - face to face - even though I knew that she couldn't possibly hear me. Following the funeral, it was little difficult for all of us to look at her things - her sarees, her airbed, towels......An absurd thought occurred to me then. What if she had a phone? More specifically, what if she had a phone number? If she had a number, then it would soon get deactivated; after a point of time, it would be reassigned. What would I have done then? Message her everyday, only to get a "sorry, wrong number", one morning in return? ...