"No, beta, you eat. I will eat later. I have to clean the—" "Ma," Meera cut her off. "Sit down." This was the culture of "Eating Last"—a form of Pathological Altruism ingrained in Indian women. The mother feeds the husband, the children, the guests, and eats the leftovers alone in the kitchen, absorbing the message that her hunger is secondary to everyone else's satisfaction. "We eat together," Meera repeated. "Or I don't eat." Mrs. Taneja sat. She picked up a piece of roti with shaking fingers. She took a bite. She looked at Meera. "The salt is less," she muttered instinctively. Meera laughed. It was a wet, choked sound. "It's perfect, Ma." "Did I tell you about Mrs. Gupta?" her mother asked tentatively. "No," Meera lied. "Tell me." "She went to Haridwar. She brought me Ganga Jal." "That's nice," Meera said—and this time, she meant it. She wasn't listening to the facts; she was listening to the timbre of her mother's voice. She was archiving the moment. She reached across the table and took her mother's hand again. The skin was loose, the veins prominent. "I love you, Ma," Meera said. It was awkward. In their family, love was expressed through cut fruit and ironed clothes, not words. Mrs. Taneja didn't say it back. Instead, she squeezed Meera's hand so hard her knuckles turned white. Her eyes filled with tears. "Eat," she whispered. "The dal is getting cold." Meera ate. It tasted of nothing, and it tasted of everything. It tasted of Presence. The transaction was broken. The ledger was closed. There was no debit, no credit—just two women eating lunch while the clock measured out time they finally understood was not infinite. ________________________________________ Key Concepts Covered in Narrative: 1. Breaking the "Eating Last" Norm. 2. Ghabrahat as Somatic Metaphor. 3. Active Presence vs. Transactional Care. 4. Negative Visualization Applied.