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The Final Goodbye?

The Final Goodbye?

2 mins 307 2 mins 307

I don't know whether I'll be able to make it through this year's Pujo"- I heard a trembling hoarse voice near me. My gaze which for so long was fixed on the 6" screen, suddenly rose up. The old man repeated those words yet again letting out a sigh; that was even more prolonged and intense than its predecessor. It seemed like his frequent sighing, did release some of the clouds of unexpressed words, boulders of emotional turmoils; thus making him feel better for a brief while.

I kept staring at his bulged dozing eyes, his salivating mouth, his wrinkled skins with patches in some regions. But not a single word came out of my mouth and dense silence prevailed. After all, what could I've possibly said? These moments are pathetic and confusing for me, at the same time. Should I've said something to lighten up his spirits and to rekindle his fire of living?  Nah. It ain't so easy. Especially for those who are gradually latching all the doors of their life except one: the one through which death is supposed to creep in silently. 

Or should I've assured him the much-awaited 'moksha' that he's seeking, will soon be granted to him? But how could I even say that? Imagining the loss of the old man, who has been an inseparable part of my life, ever since the day I blinked for the very first time, wasn't something I was ready for. I sometimes think, how gruesome will be the pain of the event, that you know is inevitable yet you cannot muster the courage to even try and think of it. 

The old man kept on whining and complaining about his health and financial problems, but I barely listened to any. His words echoed in my ears and a certain feeling of an unknown emptiness crept into me. 

Never do I fall such short of words, as in these moments and every time such a moment creeps in, I wish to get done with it as soon as possible. But some moments last surprisingly longer than the other, and it was one such moment. 

I kept on listening or at least I pretended to do so. When my time of departure came, as I said "Aschi", I wished and hoped that the next time I visit, the old man will still be right here at this very spot with his set of whinings and complaints. 

But he will be there.  

He has to be.........

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