Suman came home, had lunch, a short nap and there rang the door bell. Vedanth six years, Suraj’s elder son. Suman Aunty take to me to the hospital. A volley of questions. Suman knowing very well, children are not allowed had no option. Off we drove to the hospital. Quietly, stealthily, as if, it was disobeying her conscience. Oh no... No, talk to your father. The child was fighting, hugging his mother.
Off we drove home. Night was not comfortable for any one. Morning we enquired the health status, waited for the sunset . The routine for five long days and nights was same. MRI, X-RAY, Blood tests. Reports. Oh, where is the music. Thrill, smiles had to come. Suraj was discharged.
Home was now a playground, children running, laughing, crying, and shouting. Suraj was at home. Review after a few days, God is indeed great. Suman received feedback morning and evening as if Suman was the doctor. What a state of contentment. Music now, Suman’s home . Singing, dancing. Pooja, what happened? All well. She announced, she was visiting Suman.
Door bell rang, and what, Vedanth, Suman aunty take your cake. Your name is written. ‘Suman’. Where is your mother?

Suman aunty, “Please save me... grabbed, Vedanth. Come pull out a plate, knife we want to celebrate,” said Pooja. Oh!! A state of ecstasy, crown of flowers. Suman felt... like an Olympian. V for victory. Thrill had gripped her. Cake ceremony was over, eating drinking. Bye-bye. Good night. Love you all.


Music of life. You help your young ones, not out of return or gifts. Suman was singing with joy contentment, judging herself, was I correct? Thanks to the maid at home, Rajesh her husband, Doctors, hospital staff, Pooja and obviously Suraj for cooperating with Suman, her faith and trust.

Correct notes, pitch, rhythm. Music of life...