Death and Doldrums.

The family news channel broadcasted the death of a neighbor of my Grandfather’s. He was 63, died suddenly of a heart attack in an elevator, thus forever cementing my belief that escalators are and FOREVER shall remain safer than elevators.

Jokes aside, the parents are sad. The grandparents are sad. The street where they live in is sad. So, all this sadness has trickled down in my bubble of general happiness. I didn’t know the man but now I know he is no more. May he rest in peace. Although, I doubt being burned is peaceful.

I have never experienced the death of a loved one. Touch wood. Have any of you?

Judging by the way I cried at the death of Dumbledore, Dobby and Fred, I am sure the tears I would shed on losing someone could solve the world’s water shortage crisis.

Now that my grandparents’ (paternal) are both in their eighties, the thought that I could lose them in the near future haunts me. Unlike many people, I clearly remember my early childhood. Long walks with my Dada Ji, making up weird rhyming songs with my Dadi and many more memories. As a small child I was like a badly behaved dog. I would poop everywhere in the house, mostly in hidden corners. And as Lily asks In HIMYM, my Dadi would always ask, “Where’s the poop Shreya?” I obviously didn’t understand. Or maybe feigned ignorance. Who knows?

Once, I put my fingers in the socket and switched it on. That has to be the first time I experienced Shock, both as a feeling and as a physical jolt. Till this date that particular electric shock induced break dance of mine makes my grandparents’ laugh and I giggle along.

I could go down this particular lane of nostalgia forever. *wipes eyes*


Prolong that moment of final goodbye,

I want to make them laugh some more.

Delay the final closing of their eyes,

i want to see them shining with pride.

Make their movements less painful,

I want to play ,without them tiring.

Make the thought of them going less painful,

I don’t want them to see me crying.

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