Walking through the day

 12:01 PM

The cool air from the air conditioner has brought some relief and dryness to my sweaty face. I am sitting in the waiting room, waiting for our name to be called. The frequency of my visits to the doctors for one or the other reason has increased exponentially in the past few days. 

I wanted to get away from here as soon as possible. But it does not seem like it. I am somehow fine with the waiting now. I think it's the air conditioner, or the reluctance to melt in the sun, or the desire to just sit at a place for a while.

12:18 PM

After sitting in silence for some time, I realise that I should say something to my mother. I turn and ask her something related to the doctor's appointment. She answers and continues to speak, now off topic. My job here is done.

A lady in burkha is sitting with some elderly woman or her mother, I assume, facing us. I notice them staring at us, maybe because we're talking and smiling at the cardiologist's.

My mother is now talking with the lady who checks BP. I am listening to their conversation attentively, though not visibly. I would not have said 70% of the things my mother has already spoken in this conversation so far. I have never been like her, maybe I never will.

Their conversation is interrupted by the receptionist, the doctor is about to see us.

We are sitting in front of the doctor. He's writing something on the prescription, holding the pen in a very weird way. I wonder how he wrote all the medical exams with that pen hold. How do I hold a pen? How do people normally hold one? I want to grab the pen and see for myself, but I won't.

On our way out I see the burkha lady and her mother, I assume. She smiles at us, my mother smiles back. I should smile too, but by the time I make that decision they're gone. I look at my mother, she's saying her good byes to the BP lady. I have never been like my mother, maybe someday I will.

 While leaving I smile at the lady and whisper a little thankyou.