I had a dream some time back in which featured Sir Anerood Jugnauth. I had gone to his office and once inside, he asked me to get him a newspaper. I opened his drawer and brought out an old British one. I do a lot of crosswords from magazines (to keep Alzheimer at bay supposedly) but when I looked at the paper the crosswords were far above my level and I told him so.
Next he asked about my health and I said ‘not so good’. “You should see a doctor,” he insisted. “I’ve had enough of doctors”, I replied, “because listening to our doctors on the radio and meeting them in hospital is a different cup of tea altogether ; besides I can’t afford to go private”.
Just then in walked his advisor and SAJ asked his advice on doctors. He suggested a couple of names and a female physiotherapist.
While leaving I thought to myself, it’s SAJ who needs the doctor, not me. He even saw me to the door and outside I saw my hubby. ‘This is my husband,’ I said ‘he is Kissoondeeal but I am Babajee’. Once someone told me dreams are just dreams and should be binned. Actually I’ve never met SAJ but found it odd that I should have had such a vivid dream.
You can afford to have at your disposal, Sir, an armada of doctors, nurses and physiotherapists but me, being a simple mortal, all I can say is ‘Take care SAJ’.
Mona. R. Babajee