wind of time can't grab from me

This day too started as usual. .late wake up, scrambling around to make up my time table, taking never-followed resolutions, chit chat with friends, working on my project, going out with amma for a small shopping, rushing back to open the door for achen who came earlier…forgetting to return the library book …

We forget everything pretty fast and it takes only fraction of a mille second to tide them back to our world …

2day I missed my grandfather very very very much…..When I arranged his wardrobe with all his dresses, files,books,some fading old letters,small small boxes ,his rudhraksha mala…I felt him there.his presence,his voice,his smell,his smile ,his frowns and d way he calls me….

Its so strange how people vanish from our lives so quick and how swiftly we live forward.He lived with us….He used to talk about everything under the sun ..When we were children me n etten slept hearing his stories .Still I have lot of stories in my heart with unknown endings..

I might have fallen asleep, my etten was always a better listener ..…Everyday after his routine evening walk he ll have two chocolates…

It was very difficult for us ,when he went away, not to wait for him in the evening...Unknowingly we went to his room to tell him something ,to take something ,to ask him something and suddenly we realize that he is not there….We felt our home drenched in silence…The depth of that silence only four of us know…and mostly to amma who stayed back at home when we all went to office n college…He was our part n d way we miss him no one in this world will…

When he was admitted in the hospital..when everyone said there is no hope..we prayed hard with full of hope and confidence..,Till then we had never felt ,we never knew ,that one among us can simply fly away like that.He was 82 and Its now 4 years…But still that day reminds me of my shocked tears, too warm for my cheeks n those white hospital grills on which I gripped hard....

Many say I look like him n sometimes talk like too…He was pretty strict and very much disciplined unlike me..And I was his only granddaughter who talked to him whatever comes to my head.Sometimes he turned angry but at the bottom of the heart we both knew each other very well …and I got tricks to cheer him up..

I was always a complaining box uttering “appoopen like etten more n not me”…He knew it is my idea to get more attention n he laughed when I said like that.

.Often I was there with him to arrange his room .I was a very curious naughty little girl that I pocked my nose into every box and old cover ,reading all old letters I could get.. I can still hear his scolding call “athiraaaa… ..”..and see me putting everything back very quickly with a slinky winky smile …All that moments now I hold very close to my heart like his smell and voice…That’s the only things we have got, to keep, unscathed by the wind of time…We never realise how important someone was in our life until they walk off…

We still keep his room in the way he had kept….His things in the place where he had choose to keep…Every time I achieved something or got something special I feel like running to his room ,sitting near his chair n telling

him how much happy I am…But...

His chair lay vacant, both in his room n in our life…

He still lives in our heart, guiding us, caring us …