My mother wouldn’t let go of my hand. Six years ago, at Delhi airport, I put her on a flight to Heathrow, to my sister, a doctor, who would get her properly diagnosed.
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"Teach your parents well,
Their children's hell will slowly go by,
And feed them on your dreams
The one they picks, the one you'll know by.
Don't you ever ask them why, if they told you, you will cry,
So just look at them and sigh and know they love you"