The torch on the bed under the pillow. The spectacle case
neatly arranged next to the day’s newspaper... The pile of neatly folded laundry.
Everything looked just the same, but the silence came from the blank TV screen.
The silence came from the stationery walker which now held his last worn dhoti
and vest... I could no longer sense the
lingering smell of the sandalwood powder.... It was his trademarked aura.
The pictures of the divine powers in their myriad forms all
looked at me benevolently, and the forms all slowly turned into the many faces
he used to cajole, threaten, and worm his way into people’s thoughts and
hearts.
A commander ....... Said one of the persons who clung to me
tightly.. he sang away to the nurses, complained about the lousy food at the
hospital, but also used his famous pick up line, “I have met you before...”
He had his beatific smile on his face when his pressure fell
alarmingly. And when he finally decided to move on, all his grandchildren stood
around him and sang that one song that he had made up for their lullaby when
they were babies.... Nani ma nani ma nani manni nani ma naani ma ni.... The
room resonated with his presence in our hearts... He was around. Some stories
have no ending. Neither does this one.
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