Bade Dadu

“13/2/2017        

Dear Diary,

It was hardly two in the wee hours of morning when my father hurriedly shook me and my younger sister, Mihika, out of our peaceful slumber. Even though we were very sleepy, a look at my father’s anxious face made all of our drowsiness evaporate in thin air.  

In my half asleep state I could hear my mother groaning in the adjacent room as if she was suffering from severe stomach cramps and merely imagining her rolling on her bed, clutching her stomach for her dear life and pleas for help sent chills down my spine.

My father hastily pulled us out of folds of our blankets, and told us to remain calm. He informed us that he and my mother were going to take care of an ‘emergency’.”

As I sat and flipped through the pages of my 6 month old and slightly embarrassing high school diary, which were filled with descriptions of my week-long crushes and juvenile antics, this entry stood out. This brought tears to my eyes as Emotions flooded my brain.

That day had been one of the most helpless and terrifying days of my young 15 year old life. That day I had witnessed my strong father sobbing his heart out, my mother literally being paralysed with fear, my aunt devastated and my grandmother looking heartbroken.

Perhaps the worst part of the day was the first few hours when I was alone in house with Mihika and had no clue of what the ‘emergency’ was. My mind ran wild, I thought of all kinds of horrific things that could be counted as the ‘emergency’. Was someone very ill? Had someone committed a heinous crime? Or had someone been the victim of such a dirty crime? Had the devil possessed someone near and dear to me?  

After a couple of hours of high stress I finally mustered up the courage to call up someone to quench my curiosity. As I called up my older cousin and heard what he told me I could feel the ground sink underneath me.

That day, my 80-year old Bade Dadu went to the better world. He was well, disease-free and happy, but then death came knocking his doors. His demise was a real shock for me. I did not meet him that often, I did not talk to him every day, but this news made me feel very vulnerable and unexpectedly scared.

My fondest memories with him came flooding back. I thought about how my Bade Dadu used to force the three-year-old me to hug him tight. I still remember how he always was calm and happy through tiring times. How he used to talk for hours with us, his grandchildren. How he was an inspiration for all of us. He was a person to aspire to be. Always taught us important things in life like following our hearts and not respecting baseless trends.

Tears swelled up my eyes and I couldn’t stop crying. I found myself wondering why life was so unpredictable. Why did it have to change? Why did people whom we love have to go?

Seeing the sorrow around me made me sad, I wanted to just give a hug to my “Badi Dadi” and tell her it was all fine. I wanted my aunt, who had just lost her father, to be back to her normal chirpy happy jolly self. I wanted things to change. Most importantly, I wanted HIM back.

Even though I was broken beyond repair, that day taught me two very important lessons. One being that the best place to be with is with a loving, close-knit, supportive family. I realised that I had a very strong supportive backbone to fall back on whenever I felt like I needed one’s support.

And other being the lesson of how to smile despite in pain. People say it's a sad event when one dies, but death is inevitable, and if a person dies a healthy, disease-free natural death after a long happy life, shouldn't one wish him luck in afterlife, where he has to go. We can postpone death, but if it comes, shouldn't we celebrate it?

People say Life is an exam where the syllabus is unknown and question papers are not set. But why are partings so difficult?

He would have wished us to laugh and tell him goodbye, and believe me it's hard to do.

I felt that though he left us in physical state, a part of him will always be with us. He is unreplaceable and his memories have made him immortal. Then, all I regretted is not being there for him, for taking him for granted at times.

I can still flash back to that day and have a very clear memory. It still makes me sad, but that made me strong. I know he would have wished us to smile and wish him goodbye, and that’s what I’m going to do.

I love you and miss you Bade Dadu. Every day.