Monday, January 25, 2010

Scenes of the Father

My father is not invincible. But he acts as if he is.

Recently, some of his daily death-defying actions almost got him warded till the end of his life.

All of us have been advising him, but he refuses to listen.

It is no longer cute.

I called him up just now, and told him off. He just listened, as I did, when I was a teenager, and then passed the phone back to my mother. His philosophy has always been to live life as he sees fit before the end.

He believes that it's just going to be a full stop.

I see ellipses.

I see plastic tubes. Four going in. Three going out. I see ECG meters hooked on. I know the possibilities of a long life, connected to machines.

Judging by the hardiness of the people in my family - severe illnesses can only slow us down - being hooked to machines for the next 20 years is a very real possibility.

I don't think he would enjoy being hooked to machines. I do not want to drive him to suicide, if he wakes up in a hospital ward and discovers that he no longer has any say in his freedom or independence.

I want to be there, back home, but I have lots of work to do. And there is very little I can do, even if I'm there. I can argue with him, but he is beyond arguments. Beyond logic. The man who was once pure intellect has succumbed to base emotions. I cannot reason with him anymore.

Oh well. What a time to quit smoking, huh?

I am so fucking pissed off, but I know my father is even more so. I'll do what I can. But there's only so much.