Satya
sat down on a couch. Her limbs ached.
'I'm growing old,' she thought. But
that was only to be expected. She grew more tired but less sleepy.
She also felt less hungry these days, though her memory was still
sharp.
Small
mercies, thought Satya.
Small mercies.
She sighed. Her tiredness and
physical aches were less than the grief of her heart. The last rites
of her grandson was over. His five sons were so small. She wondered
if her step son and grandson would care for those.
She had no energy left to worry for
them now.
She looked up as her son was
announced.
"Krishna," she smiled at
him. He was called Vyasa by all these days, Veda Vyasa. But to her he
would always be Krishna.
"Mother," he bent down to
touch her feet.
"Ayushman
bhavah" she blessed him.
"Mother," he said as he
sat down next to her on her invitation. "It is time you left the
palace. It is time for you to leave the world behind."
She gazed at him. He was right of
course. She should leave for the forest. It was the way of things, of
life.
She sighed again. She had buried her
husband, two sons and now a grandson. She did not want to watch more
deaths. Her son was right. She should leave.
She
gave him a faint smile and nodded.
"It is time," she echoed.
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