Write-In 2019: 'Evening in the theatre' by Vijayalakshmi Sridhar

We made it to the movie, along with Simran fifteen minutes late- his planning. Sim took a seat at the far end leaving us alone in the nearly-empty theatre. He put his swollen left leg up on the chair opposite to him so that the blood circulation was not blocked. I told myself to look beyond this new illness for hope and happiness. I didn’t want to bicker. We sat closer. Intermission time and he was ready to go out. No cool drinks; no sugary stuff; you need to get your weight under control for this clot to heal and for you to stay healthy, I said softly without upsetting him. He limped out and Sim came to sit by me. Ten minutes later he hadn’t come back. I urged her to look out. Keep an eye on what he buys, I told her. Few seconds later father and daughter were back. You sent her to spy on me? He fumed. No, I denied flatly. I didn’t tell him Ma, Sim volunteered foolishly and shrank back when I gave her a piercing look. I cursed myself for the worrywart I was and kept quiet. He went back. Sim shifted to the front row. Could he be in some emergency? Did the clot move up and choke his lung? Was he lying unconscious outside, with strangers hovering around him? Shouldn’t we have come at all? The Dolby stereo drumbeat couldn’t match my heart beat. I called Sim but she wasn’t turning back. So this was how his life was going to end- my heart sank. Restless and pinned to the seat I kept looking at the entrance. Twenty frantic minutes later, he walked in and settled into the cushion chair, his leg promptly up. I heaved a sigh of relief.