Hmm. . . My Grandpa Died: I didn’t cry.

Grand Pa

June 14th, 2012.

It’s the day my Grand pa’s dream fulfilled. He always wanted to have an own house in his Village. After great hard-ships, several combats, we’ve succeeded to fulfil his dream. That day is the happiest, important and the last day of his life.

“Nagabushana Nilayam” (House of Nagabushan) Our uncle read the Name carved on the building.

“Yes, that is my name,” said my Grand Pa, his voice weak and shivering, but ecstasy flowing through it. Today his voice is much more trembling. He is looking again and again towards His building, His dream.

For a middle-class family like us, those are very big dreams. We are people who just live on dreams and fights to get them true with as less trouble as possible. We (they) don’t have courage at least to think about their family falling into some trouble.

“At last you’ve made your fathers dream true.” One of my father’s friends said to my dad, and I was just standing beside him.

I expected pride in my father’s face, but no, no trace of pride was found. My father, with a weak smile turned towards his father, my grand pa. My father’s eyes were filled with moist, if you call them happy-tears, then that works. He was happy for his dad, and he just was happy for himself for getting succeeded in getting his father’s dream true. “A duty, which must be done by a genuine son,” So, there was no trace of pride in his eyes.

My Grand Pa, with his weak walk and breath, was walking and rushing all over, to all his family members, family friends, and friends of his old Village. He was some kind of ‘Unstoppable’.

He already was suffering from an Artery failure and was already twice stricken by major heart-attack. Doctors say; it is a miracle for some weak guy like him, surviving seven years after two major Heart-attacks.

“Babai (dad), cool down. Don’t rush. They all will be here all the night and tomorrow morning too. Don’t strain yourself dad.” My dad and my dad’s sister kept on warning him, how-ever, he denied their request. Yes, that is his house, his dream, his breath of course, how and why the fuck must he get his excitement down? But, it would be good, if it got down.

He wore a gleaming White Shirt and White dhoti and kept a mark of Vibhuti (Sacred Ash) on his forehead. He gathered all his old friends and his-aged family members, and started explaining how this house is important for him and his-father and to his next generation. Every time when I saw him smiling wide with glittering eyes, it made me tearful. “Grand pa, I love you.” I said this a thousand times in my heart. As if he heard my heart, he nodded at me every single time when I said these.

The night fell and we all were set up for a sleep. There is a tradition that they must not sleep in the warmed house for the first-night in there. So we kids arranged ourselves on the terrace of the house,, elders and the others divided themselves in different friends’ houses, and my Grand Pa planned to sleep in the house which is just beside ‘His-House’.

As it is a Village, ones’ house is everyone’s house! I swear you will love that environment. I can also swear, if you show up there, not even knowing who you are, they will feed your mouth by their own hands, showing the love which you can never imagine or find between these concrete jungles!

The last time when I saw my Grand Pa before sleeping is from the roof, he still was revelling his already-hundred-times-said-stories with the same weak breath and weak gestures, but he was exhibiting a furious energy. But his friends never complain; they will sit before him listening them for the hundredth one time! True friend’s yaa!

“Grand Pa became a child this day,” my sister, Usha said to me. She was one disciple of my Grand Pa for whom she can die too. Even Lord Hanuman cannot respect Lord Ram in such a way!

“Yes, he is. . .”

“What happened, say me I can take It.” asked my aunt, sister of my dad.

“No, nothing, just we admitted him in the hospital,” said Surayya Grand Pa. This old man, is the one who can be decorated by the ‘Gunnies Book of World Record’ for lifting innumerable dead bodies of his friends and family members. Just as Sachin Tendulkar sticks to one end of the crease and on the other end collapses all the team wickets, he stuck but all the friends and family members were leaving in peace. Still, he is a strong man, till the date. His breath too neither trembles nor shivers.

“Tell us Surayya, we can take it,” insisted my Grand Ma, who already was sobbing continuously.

He did not change his word, “Kamala (my Grand Ma), why will I lie about him at you? He is fine.”

It is mid night, we were suddenly awakened and said that my Grand Pa was suffocating and was taken to our town’s hospital by my mom, dad and other uncles, and we (me, Usha, aunt and my Grand Ma) too started to them. Surayya already went with my dad and mom, and he returned to take us to them.

Everything in the car was silent, except the tears flowing down my aunt’s and Grand Ma faces. I and my sister were in confusion, not trying to make any conclusions.

Everything was eerie, as if our home was conjured by an evil-super natural power.

The car was not going towards the hospital; it was going towards our home in our town.

“If he is in the hospital, why are we going to our home?” my aunt screamed, tears with fear flowing down her face. “Why Surayya, why are going to home, why are we not going to the hospital?”

Suddenly, Usha too broke out crying in confusion, making stupid conclusion in her mind. Grand Ma cry reached its peaks, she was sobbing. My breath was rising, gaining speed, and body was getting cold, and even eyes were getting dizzy.

“You are frightening the kids,” he shouted. “Nothing happened.”

“Then why are we. . .?” before my aunty could complete the statement, he motioned to be silent. Her words were dead in her mouth itself.

We were at the street’s end, and the house was crowded by people in white shirts, and everything was silent; silent as the darkest night itself.

Suddenly a huge cry, “Babai, don’t leave me, I will die as a lone. . .”

It is my dad! His cries were audible till the street end. My Grand Pa died! He died! Real, hm. . . . Really died!

Cries rose in our car, all the three ladies were crying to death. It is a death shock to us! A death giving shock!

Car stopped before the home and dad ran towards Usha furiously, “Usha, your Grand Pa died,” he screamed holding her. “He died leaving us alone. Leaving us. . .”

She broke into tears. Everyone ran into the house, falling and crying before the dead-Grand Pa, but me, I stood outside, I stood outside and did not cry.

Everyone was holding one another and was crying, but no one came to me. Then came my uncle, a man who often influences my thoughts and deeds. He held my shoulder tight and looked into my eyes. I know; my eyes were blank and as empty as a never-ending-pit.

Holding his hand tight, I stood with him all the night.

Till today, I did not cry for him. I don’t know why I didn’t cry that day, but I know why I didn’t cry till this day. . . May be because, I didn’t miss him. He always is here, I feel truly. He always is here appreciating my work, appreciating my good-sense, appreciating my travel on His pure and smiley Guidelines!

Bone Voyage Grand Pa!

Hmm. . . Exactly after two-years-seven-days, my Grand Ma too died!

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Joke of the month: I am nominated! Haha. . . Look inside for the true face of mine!

Thank You for your sweet ‘accident’ Artyy: https://feelingsoulmate.wordpress.com/  (Nimmi, she is actually, but I call her Artyy! Friend Ship!)

liebster-award

Now, I am copying and pasting the ‘Rules’ content from her blog. . . Easy peasy!

Rules:

  1. Put the Liebster Award logo on your blog.
  2. Answer the questions given to you and then come up with 10 new questions for your
  3. Nominate 8 other blogs for the Award.
  4. No tag-backs.
  5. You must tell all the blogs that you have nominated them.

Questions I must answer: I think I must type on my own! The most worst answers you can ever read!

(I have an idea, I won’t answer any of them, will you declare that I am failed? It’s okay for me!)

1) What does your Blog mean to you?

Ans: One of my good time passes and sometimes a burden! I mean, I want to be before it all the time and when I can’t, I feel heavy inside! So I just used synonym of heavy! I didn’t know a single replaced word can change the whole meaning!

2) How do you start your day?

Ans) My dad revolve around me muttering ‘waste fellow, worst fellow, no use except eating. . . and so on! I know, it is one great inspiration!

3) Do you love travelling? If so, how often you do and what travelling teaches you?

Ans) I don’t like travelling much! I just travel on occasions or on works. . . I am answering you Artyy because you asked me, I don’t learn from travelling, I learn from people I meet in my travel!

4) What is your perspective about life?

Ans) Life? Especially for you darling Artyy, Life is ironic! Sometimes it shows you the colours of rainbow and the next moment, it locks us in the room of darkness. . . But darling, it gives you candle inside, you just have to lit it and take rest in that room!

5) According to you, what makes a person beautiful?

Ans) As your question is a bit obscure, make-up of course! Hahaa. . . .

Hey. . . . I am skipping to ninth question okay! Thank You! (Edited)

6) How had blogging impacted your life till now?

Ans) Yes, I know I had a great impact. . . But I couldn’t say how. I feel the change, a bit of sharpening in thoughts!

7) What is your favorite color?

Ans) Green ya! That is what makes our mother (Earth) beautiful!

8) What do you find inspiring about writing?

Ans) Hm. . . First thing to say. . . I have a lot of heart touching stories in my daily life. . .

When I keep my pen on paper or fingers on the key board, the deepest feelings of my heart and the minute things captured by my eye flows out,. . . And, at the end, I’ll touch your heart with the story which already had touched mine!

9) As a person you are?

Ans) Good, and. . . Average. . . . Hmm. . . Below average. . . No, the more I think, the ‘Worst’ I feel!

10) Best compliments you have received till date?

Ans) For this I answer genuinely,

“If my son is half the good as you, I feel like I am the best father,” One uncle said me, and of course. . . Tears rolled down my eyes!

But this is not crying time! This is one F****ng Nominated time!!

My 10 questions for nominees! Please don’t skip as I did. . .

1) The one person you hate most in life? Why?

2) The one place you want to see in life? With whom?

3) The one thing you want to achieve? How?

4) The one person you want to hug now? And say what?

5) The one person you want to be? What are you now?

6) One love you want till your last breath?

7) 1st best friend?

8) When did you clean your house on yourself last time?

9) One thing you want to hide from your parents?

10) Answer this genuinely: In whose hands do you want to die?

My Liebster Nominees are:

Lylyellyn: http://lilyellyn.com/

Hargun: hargunwahi.wordpress.com

Peace Please!: http://aaghazahmed.wordpress.com/

Tessa: https://lovewhatislove.wordpress.com/

Luke: https://lukehood83.wordpress.com/

Prakash: https://itsphblog.wordpress.com/

Dave: http://daveastoronliterature.com/

TJ: http://thetjblog.com/

(If I spelt any names wrong! I’m sorry)

Thumbs Up!

The Pencil Boy! I Love him!

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“Hey, Pencil boy…” He shouted loud.

The pencil boy ran, in pleasure, towards his only customer he hardly got in that whole day. They were very large pencils of thirty centimetres long, and of different colours. Vicky changed his gaze from pencils towards the boy and passed it all over him. His hands were filthy, lots of sweat on face and all over dress, salt linings all over shirt were precise, neck full of dirt, at least his legs were not slipper worn.

“How is this business?” He asked.

“Hmm….” He sniffed, with distress. “No one shows interest in buying these kinds of pencils sir, not even kids. But, I must live only on this sir”

“Hmm, good,” In reality, Vicky didn’t understand a bit, why he must live only on those. “Each pencil costs how much?” He asked with smug look, expressing his offer.

“5rupees sir, just five rupees” Pencil boy said, trying to make a positive impression.

“Give two.”

That all, pencil boys face was delighted, he was in sky. “Take these, sir” he handed two pencils of orange and red colour.

“But I like green and white.” Vicky smiled. But expression on Pencil boy’s face didn’t fade.

“Take them sir.” He handed Vicky’s desired colours and tried to retake the previous two.

Vicky yanked his own hand, “These are your first sold pencils of this day, your first money, Lord Lakshmi’s sentiment. You must not take them return.” Vicky said confusing pencil boy. “It means I’ll take all the four.” Vicky said amusing him.

“Thank you sir, really thank you.” He said, emotionally delighted.

Tapping his shoulder with smile, Vicky turned towards his left casually, there he saw a board. His smile faded a little and an idea struck his mind. Then again, he turned towards the pencil boy, “My Deepu loves pink and Subbu ji loves Black, do you object if I take another two?” He asked over whelming him. “Thirty, right?” Vicky handed all the money he got in his pocket.

Enthralled pencil boy slowly walked certain distance, and turned back.

“Sir,” He shouted. “Yes,” Vicky turned back.

“It’s been two days, since I’ve eaten something sir. Thank you.” The guy’s lighted face filled Vicky’s heart. He smiled and pointed towards the board he saw before sometime. It read “Full Meals just for rupees 30.” The boy was much delighted and he was inside it in few minutes.

Gangster: Origins. . .

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(My first writing ever, ages ago!)

On a real sunny day, sun was shining bright, high in the sky. Blazing in that mid day a black metallic Benz was gaining intense acceleration disturbing the settled sand and the silent wind of the sleeping desert. It was looking as if the car’s roof was on fire, burning and blazing in that high noon sun. It was dusting the sand of desert with its fierce velocity.

An isolated wooden room present in mid desert was its destination. The black Benz broke its speed before the wooden room. The whole pace was filled with dust disturbed by the dusty Benz. Nothing happened for a long time. Silence hovered all around. After laps of time, the door of black Benz was opened. A tall man in a black suit stepped out of the car from the back seat. He buttoned his black suit glaring towards the door through his black sun glasses. He took out a small black silver lined heavy suitcase with his right hand and exchanged it to his left. He wants his right hand free to hold something else more important. He closed the door of car. He turned towards the sun, which is shining in his blue eyes through glasses. He walked towards he wooden door.

His height made him look attractive. His muscles suited his height. His frozen lips reflected his attitude. Continuous gaze towards the door and gun in his right hand revealed his intention. His yellow hair with black lining gave him the look of a ‘Gangster’

He didn’t utter a single word standing before the door, the long hair stands moving randomly before his eyes cause of the dusty wind didn’t at all alter his gaze through his glasses or his frozen attitude.

After a long time, the door opened at a sudden. A thin, muscular, long black haired hat-man with a long black cloak up to his knees opened the door having a cowboy hat on his head and a with a tooth pick in mouth. Stranger didn’t alter his gaze. He gently shifted it towards the hat-man. The hat man was still holding the door with his right hand with his face towards the ground and his hat towards the stranger.

The hat man looked towards the black silver lined suitcase and raised his head towards the stranger with a long grin. He welcomed the stranger into the wooden room motioning his hands inside with the same smile. Then the stranger slid his gun inside his pocket. He adjusted his suit with half smile and entered the room leaving the dusty wind out.

Room was too small in size which can hold a maximum for six or seven persons to stand. A table was placed at the centre of the room with two chairs facing each other. Two completely head-shaved fatty goons were present inside the room gazing towards the stranger, holding shot guns leaning to their shoulders. Stranger didn’t bother them. May be they are not his interest or maybe they are ‘nothing’ in his concern. He sat on a chair as the hat man too did on the other. Hat man rested his left shoulder on the chair and pulled his right leg forward resting on the table too much and kept his silver pistol on the table and rested his right palm beside it. Stranger too took out his gun from his black suit and handed it on the table. The hat-man knew the story of that pistol. After a few moments of silence he placed the silver lined black case on the table and opened it facing himself. Then the two goons pointed their guns on stranger with smug smile. Everyone in room except the stranger was wearing the same smug smile. Then the stranger gave a sly smile looking towards the hat man. Then, they fell in confusion. The stranger partially raised his hand raising two fingers towards the sky and his smile grew.

May be that’s the first time he had ever smiled then. Yes, he likes killing. But he loves killing the people who tries to kill him.

In few seconds, the small wooden room as flooded away in the hurricane of bullets; except the wooden pieces behind the back of the stranger, everything was destroyed, made into pieces. The fatty goons died without knowing how. May be hat-man was facing the stranger and the stranger himself worked as shield to him. He was alive. No one spoke. Stranger was still in the same position while hat-man was stumbled in fear and was panting in confusion.

“Aaaahhhh…….” he growled and dragged his silver pistol in moments. The next second he pointed it on the stranger. Nothing happened. Sun was directly projecting towards them. Wind carrying dust was touching them through the broken wooden pieces. Again smug smile possessed the lips of that hat-man. Stranger didn’t utter a glance. The next very moment, all at a sudden the stranger dragged a pistol from the case and shot the hat-man’s head. Body of the hat-man sank down. Stranger was still for some moments looking towards the hat-man. Fixing his gaze on the dead body, he stood up angrily maintaining his attitude. He replaced his pistol in case took his silver gun into his suit pocket. Adjusting his suit he walked towards the car. Again he started dusting the settled desert.

GANGSTER ORIGINS……

(To be continued. . .)

Actually, I don’t know weather I will continue or not, I just wrote the statement when I first wrote this!

Ooh, thank You for your encouragement, I’ll try to continue!