The Watch That Stopped

"My watch isn't working. I think it just needs a new battery," 87-year-old Father said to his Daughter. She was stepping out for work.

"What do you need a watch for?" she asked sourly. 

He chuckled. "Don't worry if you are over-worked."

She sighed and smiled, feeling bad already about her irritability. "I will see what I can do about it," she said.

"Don't go out of the way," he said, concern for her lacing his concern about getting the watch back to working condition.

"It's not going to set itself right on its own, is it?" she asked, hating his formal way of showing concern for something that could not be helped. She didn't even know what she could do about it and would have to scout stores to find an answer. 

"I think it just needs a new cell," he said confidently. Suddenly, he was the expert. Technology was hardly his thing. She smiled, nodded and left.

The watch traveled with her for a few days. He refrained from asking her the status but the question lay heavy between them. It was there on her mind as she crossed malls and shopping areas. But she seemed to be in a hurry to reach some place all the time. One day, she decided she had to do something about it. She stopped at a fancy store.

"We don't have the cell right now. But you can leave it here, I will get it done," the shopkeeper said. Should she, shouldn't she... "I will be getting new stock by 3. I will keep it ready by 5," he told her. She didn't know what he could do to the watch. Steal parts? "Ok," she said, relieved to get this done finally.

But no, it was not to be. When she went at 5, the watch remained still. "Didn't get the right cell," the shopkeeper informed without any regret. She took the watch and left. Now, like the rolling stone, the urge to get it repaired gained momentum. She stopped at the busy market area on her way to work. She saw the authorised showroom of the same brand as her father's watch. She felt it was the right omen. She stepped in there and asked if they could repair it. The shopkeeper gave it to an assistant who gave an estimate after examining it, "The winding mechanism is not working. We can replace it for Rs 900." 

Uh-oh! That's not what her father had thought. Knowing his penchant for thinking twice before spending on himself, especially, she called him. "Should I get it done?"

"900! No, we will figure it out. Bring it back," he instructed.

The watch went back to him and she felt lighter. "Your brother got the cell replaced. Took just 30 rupees," he said happily a week later.

"Oh, good. Is it working now?" she asked. He replied vaguely and she assumed it was a yes.

"God, that watch will be the death of him!" her mother exclaimed when she was visiting them some time later. "He has other watches, but I don't know why he is obsessed about making it work."

"Isn't it working?" she asked her mom. "I thought bro got the cell replaced?"

"Yes, he did. But that's not solved the problem."

"Ya, I told appa that the mechanism is the problem," the daughter mumbled.

"Whatever!" her 83 year old mother wasn't interested. "He has enough watches and he doesn't even need them. But he wants this repaired."

Well, they had done their best.

But her Father couldn't rest. "I am going for a walk," he told his half asleep wife one afternoon and left the room before she could protest. She tried to follow him but her arthritic limbs couldn't match his spry stride. She grumbled and went to the kitchen, now fully awake and worried. The only saving grace was that he had remembered to take his mobile phone.

The clock in the drawing room ticked ominously loudly as she kept a vigil for his return. It was almost 2 hours before he did. Her concerned look was met by his stern face that brooked no questions. She meekly offered coffee and slowly made her way into the kitchen. He went to the bathroom to wash his hands and feet and came to the dining room, to have the coffee and snacks she had placed on the table. "Why so late?" she asked.

He shrugged. "The shop was closed. So I walked around a bit and went back."

She shook her head and grimaced. "Was that really necessary? At this age?"

He clucked irritatably, not allowing her to speak further. But when he couldn't get up from the chair, only she was there to help him. "What happened?" she asked, worried.

"I suddenly felt dizzy... Some kind souls noticed and held me. Bought me some juice. Put me in an auto... I had money in hand, but I didn't remember. I was... disoriented. Have to repay them. Tomorrow, I will go at the same time. I think one of the girls who paid for the auto comes to take her bus from the stop nearby," he narrated, words stumbling out.

"You will do no such thing," she said and called her son who was at work in his house next door. He came rushing. "What happened?"

"Appa fell..."

"I didn't fall," he intervened. "But I went giddy and lost balance. I think I have a catch in the back."

Despite his protests, son took him to see a doctor. "All good, just a spasm," the doctor gave a clean chit. Relieved, the son gave vent to his concerns angrily, "What was the need? That watch!? That watch! It's not working! Why can't you leave it be? Or I could have taken it again..."

Father sat through it silently, grumpily and then complained to the mother. "He is busy, has no time. Do I need his permission to go to the shop?"

"He is concerned," she said softly. He knew, but didn't like being ticked off like a child. He lay down on the bed, the watch next to him, ticking softly. He smiled. Gradually, the tick slowed, and then stopped, finally giving up all effort. 

The smile froze. Words remained trapped inside. Feelings bottled up. His heart had stopped. Time stood still.