[Fiction] A son reluctantly helps his mother die, and moves on with his life:
“When Chup Vakil came home from his interview, he didn’t expect his mother to ask him to help her die. As he contemplated his mother’s request, the day flashed through his mind: pale grey cubicles, women clerks, black ties matching thick mustaches, firm doors—an inauspicious, solid black—cold air from the AC raising the hair on his arms, and a large street sign reading Golconda Legal Associates of Radhapur in Hindi.
“‘Why should we hire you?’ They spoke only in English—not his mother tongue—but he managed. He had been a lawyer for nine years, recently laid off due to financial reasons but with good references and not a blemish on his record. The conference hall smelled of lilac air freshener and dark coffee. He sat alone on one side of the table in his lucky suit.”
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