prayer meetings

We have a very efficient and dedicated parish priest. He came home one day for a house visit. He found my father lying on the sofa reading a murder mystery. He had been brought by a well meaning neighbour.
“You need some company. You need socialization." said the neighbour.
“Not really,” said my father, “I go to Chennai once a week to play bridge. It is difficult though.”
“The long hot journey?” asked the priest solicitously.
“Oh no! The car is air conditioned. My partners over there. They are old , a little deaf and one I suspect is becoming a bit demented.”
The priest started nervously fingering his bible.
“Where is your family? “ asked the priest.
“No one is here,” replied my father, my daughter and son-in- law have gone to work.”
“You are alone?”
“Not really, I would like to be, but there are people around all the time, there are domestics to take care of me.” He leaned forward, “they are a nuisance. They sneak to my daughter.” He sat up to complain.
“I don’t see why clothes should be changed every day. I only lie around. My clothes are not dirty.”
“What about bathing?” asked the priest.
“That I do every day. I just sometimes put on the same pants. The washing machine also needs some rest!”
Father continued. “That tall fellow, he drinks my orange juice. Then he dilutes it with water.”
Just then the tall domestic brought a glass of iced orange juice for the priest. He looked at it askance.
My father bit on some nuts a week ago and cracked his dentures in half. He was unwilling to go to hospital so he told one of the domestics to buy some Fevicol. Then he painstakingly stuck the dentures together and put it back in his mouth. When I reached home the domestic came creepily close to me and started whispering.
“What is it? “ I asked , nervous about his proximity.
The Fevicol story was revealed.
I told my father ,”you cannot stick dentures with Fevicol. I am fixing an appointment with the dentist tomorrow.”
He protested, “on TV they said you can stick anything with Fevicol. The advertisement is quite funny.”
“You can’t believe everything you see on TV. They advertise 2 minute poisonous noodles and Pan Masala!”
He is now being taken for dental appointments.
The priest was silent. The dentures and orange juice had temporarily silenced him.
“We have a very good senior citizen group. They are all around your age. “
“I have crossed 90,” said my father.
“In that case you will be senior most member. We meet twice a month in the evening.”
My father asked, “do you play bridge at these meeting?.”
“No “ said the priest.
“A few hands of rummy perhaps?”
“NO” said the priest looking around for escape, “we pray and meditate and have refreshments.”
“Gin? “ asked my father , his eyes lighting up.
“NO” said the priest “coffee, tea, a few biscuits and cake. Many members are diabetic and some don’t have teeth.” He quickly corrected himself. “They have dentures.”
“I’ll pass” said my father I will pray by myself and meditate on these murders. He indicated a novel. “I always try to figure out who it is before I reach the end,. I face a lot of temptation to look at the last page in the process. You know previously enmity and money was the reason for murders. Now a days everyone blames their childhood and parents! It makes it a little difficult to figure out! Do you like murders?“
The priest beat a hasty retreat. He has not come since.

the physiotherapist

The Physiotherapist

I tore my Achilles tendon completely a month ago. This meant my left foot flails, with me unable to stand on both feet, balance or walk. I could hop, but it was an exhausting, nerve racking process (what if I fell again?) The fall also wrenched the muscles in the front of my left thigh. This meant the iliotibial band and the thigh muscles keep going into painful spasms.

After the orthopaedic surgeon put a heavy plaster cast up to mid thigh, knee flexed and ankle flexed (can’t walk or balance at all), he told me to exercise to keep the strength and tone up in the muscles. I tried for two days. Leg lifts were impossible. The leg with the heavy cast had a mind of its own. It veered off sideways and then landed with a heavy thump on the bed. Sometimes it got caught under the bed. I dropped one of the arm weights and it rolled under the bed. I had to stop till the domestic arrived and fished it out with a broom. This was not working.

I decided to have professional physiotherapy. I could go to the rehab center in CMC where I would definitely get excellent treatment-----but---- I had to be transported down seven steps  to the car. Someone had to drive me there----. So I decided on home physio. A very fit young man with a flat stomach arrived with a bag full of instruments of torture.

He came at a different time every day. Since I just sit or lie around the house all day (Tata Sky and Amazon Prime are life savers), it didn’t make a difference to me. Finally I asked him.

“Why does your time keep changing?”

“I am supposed to see another elderly lady before you,” he said, “ She sometimes doesn’t  wake up. After that, She refuses to exercise without bath and breakfast.”

Another client apparently fought with him every day .” Why should I pay you? You don’t do anything except pull my hands and legs up and down till they pain. Why do you keep saying stand, sit, left, right ? it is very confusing. At least do the exercises in front of me so I can follow you.”

Since his balance was a problem and the physiotherapist had to stand next to him to make sure he did not fall down, this was not really an option.

I need strong arms now to use the crutches and the walker. So he makes me do dumbbells. They weigh around 2 kg each and he makes me flail them around like a school sports day drill.

Encouraged by my heroic efforts, he took them to the next client as well. The next day he arrived with a bandaged foot.

“What happened?” I asked.

“I was about to start the exercises, so I gave the lady a dumbbell to hold. Lift it up over your head “ I said. Instead she dropped it on my foot---.”

business model

Business Model

Swami (name changed) brought his teenaged children to me for wheezing and drippy noses. I was fascinated by their feet. They wore PVC slippers but the slippers were of different colours. Don’t get me wrong, one was wearing a brown pair and the other black but of different shades. Then I realized that he too was wearing blue slippers one lighter than the other.

He saw me staring at their feet.

“I am in the slipper business “he said, “I have a factory and I make these slippers.”

“Are these the seconds?” I asked

“Oh no” he said “ the slippers are cast in molds. I did not have money to buy all the molds, so I have only sizes 6, 7 and 8.”

He sighed, “it makes it  really hard. I have to beg and plead with the shops since I do not have all the sizes. “

“Why are they different in colour?” I asked.

“I have only the left slipper mold in all the sizes. I have to buy the right slipper from another man at three times the price. It really reduces my profit margin. Sometimes the colours are a bit different----“