Here are the words I said at the multimedia performance of Deathbed Skiing at the Showroom gallery, along with a few images:
Later on my dad stops talking.
Gets less responsive.
More restless restless restless.
I want to freshen him up.
Put his arms. Around my neck
Sit him. Forward.
And He. Tries. to get out of bed.
Goes. To stand up.
I don’t want him to fall. I try to help him back into bed.
He has got his feet on the floor by now.
And he’s in. An almost-perfect. SKIING POSTURE.
He’s trying to ski.
My dad. DOESN’T WANT TO DIE. LYING DOWN.
He is skiing.
He’s skiing into his very own BLACK RUN.
A nurse arrives. Doesn’t see what I see. Tells me off.
While I. keep on. helping. my dad stand.
Helping him SKI. One. Last. Time.
The nurse tells me he could fall. Could hurt himself.
I don’t listen. Don’t bother to explain.
He’s not hurting. He’s SKIING. How much more GOOD is there than THAT?
You know when people say that someone died in someone else’s arms? Well. My dad. Has just skied in my arms.
There’s more about the deathbed skiing image (2) here – with its traditional Islamic perspective.
There are some related stories too. Before this, my dad and I talked about his last skiing Black Run (1). Afterwards, he took his last breath (3), and I washed his body (4).