A tale of two brothers

After the accident my mother needed extensive dental treatment. It was during these sessions that I saw him again.

For years he accompanied his father to work every day, and spent it sitting quietly on a chair put up for him in one of the rooms in the dental clinic. Their father retired, and now he accompanies his brother, the present dentist.
I first heard about him from my father, when I was a kid. The mentally challenged son whose father took him to work every day.
He still sits quietly, sometimes doing namaskar, greeting patients. He can’t do much else. At intervals the dentist’s assistants offer him tea. Like a child he sometimes refuses to drink it, and like a child, drinks it when he is admonished.

The time shows on his face now. But not in his manner. He smiles, sometimes tries to talk to patients, but mostly sits quiet.
Quietly he watches his brother work. He doesn’t react to the sounds from the machines or to the patient and doctor interaction. The dentist hums a song that’s playing in the background as he works. Occasionally he explains something to the patient. He instructs the assistants. His brother watches quietly.
I wonder what he thinks. Is he aware of the success of his brother? Is he aware of all that he does for him? Is he aware of the changing scene before him? Of his father’s place in the clinic taken by his brother? Or that his nephew will one day take that place? Is he aware that he has seen time pass in front of him?
In these times when people are reluctant to even speak to their parents, it is heartening to see the dentist’s love for his brother. The unselfish love that made him take on looking after his brother from their father.
Time may have forgotten the quiet man who has spent his life sitting on a chair in a dental clinic, but love hasn’t. It’s all that truly exists for him.