Chapter 4

Sheetal’s POV:

As I walked out of the office, mom called me to inform about grandpa falling into a long slumber. He never woke up, she said. That man was filled with love and fun, but his life wasn’t easy.

And ever since the call, I couldn’t stop comparing his life to mine. I couldn’t stop thinking of the choice I wish to make and what will happen if I do.

Imagining myself in his shoes, I realize that sharing your life with someone is not as simple and family isn’t always a safe place.

Mindlessly I ended up in the church, with an overload of questions bombing my mind.

If I don’t tell her now, will it be too late?

Does she think the same of me?

Should I propose?

Will she agree?

Will our parents accept us?

Will they give up on us?

Will people think we are crazy?

Will we elope?

What if we get married?

Will we have big fights?

What if we grew to hate each other?

Will we lose our friendship too?

Will we adopt?

What if I can’t walk, just like grandpa?

What if I become dependent one day?

My chain of questions were broken by the shrill ringing of my phone. I fumbled before declining the call and quickly turned off the phone.

A few ladies were already scowling at me. Thankfully, the Father started to speak into the mic and I was spared from the stink eyes.

After a short prayer, I walked out and turned my phone on, only to find her messages and missed calls.

I was reading her messages when a passerby commented, “Youngsters these days are obsessed with these phones, always smiling at them. My child does the same” she sighed and walked away.

Again my phone started ringing and her name flashed across the screen. I was quick to pick it up, a sudden surge of peace filling into me.

It was a short call, I asked her if she could come home early.

When we met at home, it was a spur of the moment feeling with which I blurted out my confession which came out more like a question.

“What if I don’t wake up one day?” I asked, still holding onto her from behind.

“I’ll throw water at your stupid face.” she retorted. I ended up chuckling a bit.

I let go of her and she turned to face me. “Now, why would you ask that?”

“It’s nothing. Amma called today.”

“I am not letting the previous question pass, but what happened?”

“Grandpa. He didn’t wake up this morning. They called the doctor in and he declared… you know?”

“Oh”, her voice went low. “Are you okay?” she asked, but I could see the sadness in her eyes. Her eyes were always expressive.

“I- I don’t know. I will be. I guess.”

It was all Sharini who acted on the situation after that. Talking to my parents, packing up, applying for leaves, getting bus tickets. The same night we rode to the bus stand and boarded.

Everything was running past me. Trees, lampposts, buildings, streetlights, the whooshing wind. I shut the window and leaned into her shoulder. I picked her left earpiece and tried to listen to whatever song she was listening to.

♪Idhuvum, kadandhu pogum..♪

Nope. Not working. I can’t think straight. I can’t sleep. I placed the earpiece in her palm and turned back to the window. The bus jumped up and down to a set of speed breakers, much like the flow of my thoughts now.

I don’t know why this is bothering me so much. Am I missing him? Or am I happy for him? I really can’t figure out the answer. I let exhaustion and sleep take over me as I felt her fingers run between mine.

When we reached home, the shamianah was tied up and chairs were lined up in the common area. Few steps into our block and I could see familiar faces spread out. Some men were smoking in one corner, while few others were relishing tea or coffee.

We started to go up the stairs. Those two flights of stairs felt longer than ever. Sharini followed close behind with our bags. I squeezed the water bottle in my hand as we reached the door.

Numerous shoes and sandals were piled up in front of our door. Are these people relatives or neighbors? Must be his doctors because he had more of them than other people.

I saw him just as I entered the hall. He was sleeping peacefully, hands on his chest, he looks like he had a soft smile.

The odd thing was that, instead of the corner of the room, today he was at the center. Instead of the usual bed that reeked of urine half the day, he lay in a glass box over a bench, and the room smelled like a flower garden.

Well, I guess he is happy with all the attention he’s getting now because that is all he wanted when he was alive. But we were all busy, running our own errands. I wish I had spent more time with him.

This was expected for a long time, since he has been bed ridden for eleven years now. I scanned the room for his wife. The old lady sat a few feet away from him, and she looked so normal, just like any other day.

My mom came towards me and wrapped my shawl over my head. I walked over to him and placed my hand over the ice cold glass, just above his heart.

“Hey Grandpa. Your little thief is here.”