A two-week improv India trip was an experience in itself; I am yet to process many things. I came back with terrible knee pain. Between X-rays, bloodwork, and doctor appointments—on top of the fatigue from the trip—it was a lot.
Then, during a storm on a Friday, we lost power in the morning. I twisted my knee around noon while working. That same Friday evening, Anand had his first theatre program as assistant director.
My twisted knee was a surprise and extremely painful. I was ready to go to the emergency room for the pain. With no power at home, Anand was dealing with his own anxiety for the evening show. Instead of going to the ER, I used crutches and went to his performance. I am so glad I did. He is admired and appreciated in that program; seeing him in action was such a delight.
A dear friend’s doctor son-in-law, advised against rushing to the ER and suggested ibuprofen and an ice pack instead. Power came back around 10 PM after we returned home from the show, and things were back to normal for Anand.
I was on crutches for another two days, but that gave me time to just relax and do nothing. I binged watch three series in three days. It was just one of those weekends when things needed to reset.
But the idea isn't to vent about my days; it's about how I felt. I have never felt this helpless, and it made me think: do I really want to spend my old age here? I am much better now and getting back to my life, but that feeling still lingers. I’m carrying this new perspective with me—wondering where ‘home’ truly is when things fall apart. The knee healed, life moved on—but the question of where I belong as I grow older hasn’t.
An Ikat Silk Saree for a Gala for Advocates Inc, honored to serve on the board.
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