Delay
I know, not many ‘followers’ exactly, holding their breaths. But I care, for what it’s worth (incidentally, the Buffalo Springfield have a song by that name, even more incidental being that it’s my favourite).
I ended with ‘Big B: Part 1’, it being my last post. I hope to write other follow-ups to that particular blog entry, but please expect them to be untimely, as I’ll be busy for some while.
But you may find it tomorrow, all the same. You see, I’m unpredictable. Or, as a friend puts it, predictably unpredictable. Fair enough.
To conclude, keep following, stay hungry and stay foolish. Cheers!
My Big B: Part 1
It’s been a year since it happened. I was in disbelief at first- I hoped desperately for it to be a practical joke. But it was a really hectic time for jokes. And who would joke about death? Not my father, not even with his darkest sense of humour.
It being my exam eve, I had to visit my home in a hurry. That journey through the evening was perhaps the toughest I’v ever had. The longest, even. Anxiety, sadness, shock, despair, worry, nostalgia all crowded my head at once making me feel dizzy. All sorts of questions, scenarios and dialogues popped into my head. But of course, that faint hope of it turning out to be a joke was still putting its head up every now and then.
After almost about 6 or 7 hours of gruelling emotional and physical turmoil, I disembarked at the street. There were my dad and his landlord. Dad with his grave expression, trying to smother all the agitation boiling in his heart, all the sorrow clouding his soul, and uncle with his sympathetic yet supportive, and peculiarly stern look. This was new to me, at least because of the proximity of the presence of death, and the nature of the relationship involved.
Don’t get me wrong, we’re a closely knit family, though with non-ideal treads concerning each individual, and twisted ways of expressing love while keeping egos intact. We’re a funny, but surprisingly an average, ordinary family you’d expect to find anywhere. A very normal household. But what made us special was the way few dysfunctional relationships kept us together. This story begins with presence of my grandmother in our family, her departure and it goes through that of my bro, too- presence, departure, and legacy.
