Your mother is seventy.
One day she slips
And breaks her wrist.
You are not there
When this happens.
You are in Islington.
It is six weeks
Before you see her.
You take her to the doctor.
He asks her to open
And close her palm,
And she does as she is told.
He explains
Barton’s fracture
To you
And holds a X-ray
Against the light.
You don’t understand a thing
But nod all the same
And ask if they do
Hip replacement in Dehradun.
I’m doing one this afternoon,
He says,
Filling another column
In her insurance form.
Your mother asks
If she should take more calcium
My father, she says,
Sucked on bones
To make his own more strong
And lived to be ninety.
In two days
You have a train to catch
And are careful
About reaching her home
Safely.
Before leaving,
You advise her to be
More active
And to take long walks.
Arvind Krishna Mehrotra lives in Dehradun. He is the author of Partial Recall: Essays on Literature and Literary History (2012), and his Collected Poems 1969-2014 has been published by Penguin Modern Classics. His translations of Kabir, Songs of Kabir, was published by NYRB Classics.
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