It is 5:12 am, early Saturday morning of September 5, 1992 as I write this. Pitaji is sleeping in bed. “Piyaji chooridaar pyjama de dete. Iss pyjama men nichli taangen nangi ho jaati hain!”Pitaji had asked me: “Piyaji vo baakireferring to the remaining 200 cc of fluids which would bring the total intake to 1000 cc. “Kaheen phans hee na jaaye!“It might accumulate in the body!”I also realised how right He was and did not press for the extra 200 cc of Glucose Water. I have been adding up the calories that come from the Glucose water and they come to about 1000 which I thought was satisfactory. “Meraa khyaal hai pet men bhaari pan aa rahaa hai.“I think heaviness is setting in the stomach.”O Lord, all this is like a nightmare – it is just not happening – it isn’t real – I cannot imagine seeing my Pitiji in this debilitated state, half conscious, His voice weak and exhausted and His eyes having a faraway look, frequently disturbed – perhaps at the thought of leaving me alone in the world.