I am capable of instantaneous travel, of transporting myself anywhere in seconds.
Thursday May 7, 2009. I travel from Sunnyvale, California, USA, to Kochi, Kerala, India, traveling 10,000 miles. I leave at 7 PM California time, after speaking with my mother on the phone and hearing her slurred speech. I arrive within seconds, on Friday 7:30 AM
May 8, 2009 Indian Standard Time at Kochi, Kerala, at the Medical Trust hospital where she has been admitted. As she is moved to the ICU, I am by her side.
I am holding her soft frail hands, seeing again in her long fingers my own. I am there as they place her on a ventilator. She has been weakened more than usual by this infection. She is in septic shock.
The antibiotics are doing what they can, but the microbes wield their own superpower, dividing every 20 minutes, increasing exponentially in number. I am helpless, as is modern medicine, in the face of this onslaught.
But I am by her side. I am holding her hand as she draws her last breath.
Pouring all of my love and strength into her in her last moments of life until 11.45 AM, May 9, 2009, 10 days before her 73rd birthday, and the day before Mother’s Day.
I am not still in Sunnyvale, when she passes.
I am not waiting for 16 hours before I can board the next plane.
I am not sitting on planes for 20 hours before I land at Kochi international airport on Monday May 11, 3.30 AM.
I am not received by my brother and my cousin at the airport.
I am already there. I have been there for the past 44 hours.