Maan was born on my daughter’s sixth birthday, after an uncomplicated pregnancy. Husband, both grandmothers (sisters to each other), all from Southern India, were present and supportive. The birth was greeted with great joy, but within an hour, that joy was marred by a sudden seizure. I called in my pediatric colleagues, and we transferred the infant to the tertiary care center an hour up the road.
It has been years, decades really, since I have watched television. I have the box, watch movies, but haven’t had cable ever. My two children were in first and second grade when I divorced their dad, and the house we moved into had no reception.
“Oh, well,” I told them, “no TV.” They were too little to grumble, but years later my daughter thanked me, saying, “We did so many other things.”
Now I find myself newly single and in transition for the winter, living in a rented house with—you guessed it—a TV with a full complement of channels and full reception.
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