I actually walked past without recognising her. This was at the auditorium of the National Judicial Institute, the venue of the on-going National Conference. "Brother !," she called out. And I stopped in my tracks, for the voice was unmistakably hers; yet, the person before me could not be her. I assumed my senses were playing terrible tricks on me. I looked at her again. Yes, it could not be her! "Brother !," she repeated. This could not be Dora, my sister. It must not be Dora, I told myself. The person in front of me was more than a poor shadow of the lively and vivacious Dora that we had all come to know. It was hard to imagine that this was the same woman who had enthralled us all with her charming personality and relentless energy. But it was her.
We hugged and greeted. I knew she had been ill because before then she had sent me a text message to say she was going abroad for treatment. But even that knowledge was not enough to prepare me for the Dora that I saw that day. Sensing what was going on in my mind, she told me she was feeling much better and that she had not forgotten about her fish. "Brother, e don they you no bring me fish," she said. After this encounter, I managed to walk up to take my seat in the auditorium. But for the rest of the day, I was sad and depressed.
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