Participate in the 3rd Season of STORYMIRROR SCHOOLS WRITING COMPETITION - the BIGGEST Writing Competition in India for School Students & Teachers and win a 2N/3D holiday trip from Club Mahindra
Participate in the 3rd Season of STORYMIRROR SCHOOLS WRITING COMPETITION - the BIGGEST Writing Competition in India for School Students & Teachers and win a 2N/3D holiday trip from Club Mahindra

The Last Hold

The Last Hold

5 mins 361 5 mins 361

It was 2′0 clock in the afternoon and suddenly my phone rang, it was my dad. He asked me to book an Uber for them.

From the past 7 months, my grandpa was fighting against cancer, also a day before he had some breathing issues, we rushed him to a hospital and everything was under control. But today was different. He asked everyone to stay at home and was constantly poking my dad to catechize doctor to discharge him today.

Meanwhile, I booked the cab and sent the details of the driver to my dad.

After 30–40 minutes, my phone rang again. “We have reached home, Grandpa is asking for you. Come to Uncle's place”, Dad said. And I rushed there.

As I entered the room, I saw my grandpa lying in bed struggling for breaths. “We have arranged oxygen at home, the guy will be here in any minute now”, my uncle said. We all were sitting there only.

The oxygen guy came and fit the instrument, still, it felt like Grandpa was struggling. He wasn't reacting much to us (or) maybe he wasn't able to. The guy said that it might take 15–20 minutes to adjust and left.

“He hasn't had any food since morning, I will bring the juice”, my aunt said. From almost a month, he hasn't been able to intake any food through his mouth. So, we used to inject the liquid in his stomach through the tube. She brought the juice and I started injecting it.

I was the first child of my family, and kind of spoiled too. But for my grandpa, I was his love. He never scolded me or even shouted at me. Never might have said anything complaining about me. My entire childhood memories are filled with him. How he used to make me sit on the front of his cycle. How we used to go to the temple, park, etc. etc. places together. I used to eat, sleep, study and do everything with him. Whenever he must leave for the village, I would hide his shoes in the storeroom and once he missed his train because of that. I would cry and wait for him for hours sitting on the stairs after he left. 

And today I am standing straight, injecting some juice in him. That might get him emotional. He was continuously caressing my hand, as if he wants to say something but has no words. After I was done, my sister started checking his Blood pressure. He was still having inhalation issues, even when the oxygen pipe was around his nose. “It is showing error”, my sister declared. “Check mine, maybe the machine is not working”, my dad said. She did, and it was working on him. “Call Dr. Sharad dad, once in the hospital also the same thing happened and he handled it”, I told my dad. Meanwhile, I and my sister started rubbing his hand, they felt kind of defunct. I was constantly asking him, “Bade papa! Are you alright? Can you breathe?”. He nodded his head.

There was a sudden rush in that entire room. My mom, aunt, and grandma started crying. My mother was shouting and asking my dad to call an ambulance. All of us were trying to talk to him. But he was staring just in one direction, I don't know what it was.

Within a few minutes, there were neighbors around the house. One old lady asked me to bring Gingival and read the 13th Chapter of Geeta to him out loud. I rushed to bring both those things. Everyone around was crying and that was making me furious. I just couldn't understand why they were crying. My grandpa was alright, he was breathing alright… that's what he nodded to!! It's just some unstable Blood pressure, he is going to be fine!! I even shouted at the crowd to go outside and that he needs air to breathe.

My grandma was continuously crying. My mom was reciting the Geeta and my aunt was pouring Gingival in his mouth. My dad went somewhere, I don't know and had an accident. He hurt himself bad. My uncle was talking to the Doctor. And the old lady said these are his last breaths.

I don't know why I was crying, something from inside felt it because my mind wasn't still ready to accept. I was saying some random things to him to make him look at me, but he wasn't.

And then it happened. My cousin brother poured the last drop of Gingival in his mouth. My mom was reading something about Mukti… everyone was around him …. He looked at us, there were tears in his eyes, and gone…….

In that one moment, the entire world stopped. I shook him up and shouted my throat out, in that one moment I lost him… forever… I lost the most loving person in my life.

It was the last time I ever cried. From that moment, I haven't let myself cry, not even once because I know what I meant to him… every-time I used to cry, it would just tear him up. And seeing me crying for him, will just make him sad.

That one moment, made me realize how weak and unassisted we are in front of death. In those last moments, if someone would have asked us to give away our entire money, property and he will make my grandpa live, we would have done that…. But nothing, nothing in this world can change that one moment…...!!!

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