“Do you want more *curry*?” she asked him the spoon hovering over the stainless steel *tiffin* box.

It was late afternoon and the couple was perched uncomfortably on the bench placed under the lone tree of the sprawling hospital. The serpentine queue and long waiting time was sufficient proof on the popularity and success rate of the hospital.

“Worry? I am not worried.”

She did not have the heart to correct him for she knew that he was more anxious for her if his biopsy report came back positive.

After sixty years of togetherness, this inevitability of life was petrifying.

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