“If you forget to water it, and it dried up while I’m not here, I will die”. I was telling Son to look after my newest baby (my new plant), during the months I’ll be away in Peshawar. Realizing I had an interested audience by the smiles on their faces, I cut short my diatribe at Son.
My oft repeated words with Son are:
“I’m dying!” It means I’m very tired.
“I’m going to die”. This means I’m going to be vexed if things didn’t happen the way I want them.
“I’ll die!” If you are not listening to what I’m telling you to do.
The dying process continues in so many words which at times irritate Son in saying, ” God forbid some day you might be really needing help while saying you are dying, and I’ll take them as your usual words. Stop making statements like these”.