Today Papa and I decided to walk to the market, about half a mile away. We wanted to buy some knick knacks that were not really necessary, but we had convinced ourselves that they were critical to our existence, just so that we could go shopping. We crossed the street to walk that way. The ubiquitous evening crowd was buzzing. Good thing we were not in the dire critical mood! There was so much wrong all around that it would have stymied our trip to the market.
Suddenly papa stopped me and said stay here.
Taken by surprise, I stood still and watched him scoot down a small mound of street mud towards the closest building. It was an ATM. He opened the door and disappeared for a few minutes, then reappeared and walked nonchalantly towards me as if nothing had happened. No questions were asked, no answers expected. I could see the bulge in his shirt pocket where he had put the money. Papa and I have a deal. I could buy anything for him and he could buy anything for me. We never diddle daddle about formalities. I knew I would be getting stuff today.
The track from home to market was unfortunately full of temptations. By the time I realized that it was too late. There were residences that housed some of papa’s close friends. There was the “Ladies Home” beauty shop, the cyber cafe with a xerox machine, the mobile phone store for topping off minutes, the chemist, and finally street food – specifically the gol gappa wala.
We halted at each of these pit stops. Apparently we had unfinished business everywhere. We never really made it to the market eventually.
We met two of Papa’s friends on the way. One had been diagnosed with early prostate cancer – he could not stop chattering about his PSA levels in the blood. Papa, just like all men his age, also has an enlarged prostate and mildly elevated PSA. The two men literally came to fisticuffs about whose PSA was higher. There is one thing we must learn about the elderly. They have pride in their disorders. Never challenge that. 
Finally after calming the two and proclaiming that PSA is a useless test for screening in older men, I pulled Papa away to continue walking towards the market. We met another uncle a few steps away. He had been MIA for a while. Apparently his wife fell and fractured her hip. He was watching her while she recovered. I tried to suggest Aunty should get a Dexa scan for osteoporosis. Post menopausal women are at high risk and get fractures easily that are life threatening. Of course I was silenced and given a long lecture on calcium metabolism. I nodded vigorously in support. What do I know? After the yell fest I had experienced a few minutes ago I wasn’t going to put myself in any danger.
Papa and I were in a good mood. We felt overly generous. There was no ‘critical thinking’ this time. But don’t get me wrong – there were no praises either. We were not THAT kind yet. At the cyber cafe and phone stores he gave grand medical advice to the owners. One thing Papa had taught us since childhood was that we should only give advice when someone asks for it. I follow that very strictly. However, he doesn’t feel compelled to follow his own advice. He gives free unsolicited advice to all and sundry, especially health related. Having produced two doctors, I think he feels entitled to be considered some sort of a specialist by proxy.
The truth is he often gives brilliant medical diagnoses. He diagnosed my ‘swimmer’s ear’ after I had already spent hundreds of dollars in consultations and tests and was convinced I had some sort of occult cancer brewing in my ear. The problem with Papa is that he is not bound by the physician-patient professional relationship. So he embellishes his advice with profuse personal comments that literally attacks the poor target of his counseling.
Anyway, after adding minutes to his mobile phone and making a xerox copy of a document that he magically found in his pocket, we moved towards the market. On the left was the chemist. He insisted we cross the street and buy the appropriate ear drops for me. I consented but only because those ear drops had had a miraculous effect on whatever was happening inside the ear. For less than a dollar we bought a handful of other medicines as well including enzymes for digestion, fiber for constipation, and a vitamin syrup – all standard pharmaceuticals that you will find in pretty much every elderly Indian man’s basket of goodies.
All this zealous activity made us hungry. We spotted the gol gappa stand and looked at each other. Should we do it? Yes! Why not? Both of us are street foodies. We have fallen sick many times after eating contaminated food. But that never deters us from going for it another time. He ate 4 and I ate 20. 
😬
It was too late now to go to the market. The sun had set and we were tired. We made a U turn and walked back home. I saw a stray dog panting on the curb. I suggested we give him some water. Papa rolled his eyes. We kept walking. The street was uneven and full of pebbles and rocks. He almost tripped on one. That was it. The trigger was pulled. Both of us rapidly descended into florid critical mode….
More on that next time 
😂😂
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