The setting couple

The building is not that old. Yet, the missing lights and rubble all around suggest lack of funds and attention.

The lift stopped at a floor midway, a chair entered the lift, followed by two elderly ladies, one of them standing and walking with great difficulty. “I fell and had this operation,” she explained apologetically. “I just like to go down, sit there for some time and watch the children play.”

The man of the house, who opened the door with a hearty welcome, looked to have aged drastically in a few months. A more subdued “Sorry, I forgot you were coming” followed the welcome hugs.

His wife was visible through the open door of their bedroom, in a helplessly twisted posture on the wheelchair, with the caretaker combing her hair. It was clear she had not placed the visitor; the same one she used to greet enthusiastically whenever they met during their walks.

There was a large cup of tea waiting at the table. The man brought two packets of biscuits. She was wheeled close to the table and her husband. Carefully he broke each biscuit into half, dipped it in the tea and fed her. At one point, she choked and coughed, causing panic all around.

Her eyes were bright and steady on the visitors. Do you think she can recognize people? “She can’t talk. Perhaps she can hear. But I think her brain is as sharp as it always was,” he said. Her trembling hand firmly held on to chair handle as if she was afraid of falling from the chair. Her eyes remained steady, almost smiling.

He spoke of his major worry. Not the food, that was being delivered regularly, like the medical supplies. “The caretaker is planning to go to her village for two months.” Life was impossible for both of them without the caretaker. “We asked my wife's regular doctor to help us. He suggested we should move to the new old age home he has opened. It was a relief for us when we could move to this small flat thanks to a friend. Now to move from here and spend a whole lot of money every month … we just can’t do it.”

They are counting on the caretaker to find a replacement before she leaves. How long will the new person take to get comfortable with their needs? And to provide the constant care she needs through the day? Those are questions best not voiced.

Outside the window, a large tree with clusters of white flowers blocks the view of a lively game of volleyball in progress. One of the spectators, or maybe more, would be sitting on a plastic chair.

The flourishing trees swaying gently in the breeze, extend all the way up the gentle slope. If you can make it to the balcony, you can also see the sun, relentlessly setting.