THANK YOU

Today I had a long day, lost in an essay writing competition at the school, and had to work an extra hour at my part-time job. I had to adjust with oats and milk for dinner as neither I could make time to cook nor afford to buy myself dinner. But no matter how my day goes, one thing that I can’t compromise is with studies. So, just like every other day, post-dinner, I sat down to read my notes and complete my homework.

I was tired and sleepy, but I had a long way to complete my assignments. I on FM radio in a hope of being awake. But that didn’t seem to work, for in less than a few minutes, my grip on the pencil in my right hand loosen up and it slipped away, my head fell over my left shoulder. Just, when I was about to fall into a deep sleep, distracted from my studies and careless about the punishment I had to take for incomplete homework, a knock on the window, widely awakened me.

As a second knock did not follow the prior, I assumed I was hearing things, or it could be an audio effect used in the radio. I offed the radio, straighten up my back, picked the pencil, hold my book, and begun to read once again. This time I heard another knock and along with it, I could now see a silhouette through the window. I tripped and fell to the ground in fear, holding my pencil tight in my hand like a weapon. My eyes fixed to the window.

With every knock, the terror in me intensified and absurd thoughts found their way into my brain.

“Could it be a neighbor? If so, why would they not use the door?

Will that be a thief? What do I hold that’s worth the theft?

Could that be a guy? I don’t even have a boyfriend? Even if it is a guy why knock a window of a home that’s on a ground floor?”

While I was lost in thoughts, a tune brought me back.

It’s impossible, I told myself.

I unbolted the window with my trembling hands, only to witness the tables turn.

I was startled at my grandpa’s presence at my window.

“Hey, were you using the bathroom, why did you take so long?” Questioned my grandpa casually.

I continued to stare at him, still shocked.

“What are you looking at so blankly, it’s me your grandpops, and would you let me in?”, he said comfortably.

I stepped aside giving him all the space he needs to jump into my room. My eyes were still glued to him.

As soon as he entered, he began to nag at me over the condition of my room. He started to organize my things, placing them where they belong. He kept picking on me about my livelihood and level of hygiene I maintain blah blah blah.

For most of the kids, having a grandpa who could surprise them at late night knocking and jumping into their room and cleaning their stuff for them could be a blessing, but not for me.

Because mine passed away two years ago, he was the last blood relative I had and he passed away at 80, 3 days before his 81^st birthday.

I heard from a neighbor; my grandpa was walking back home that day from a grocery shop. She could see him walk across the street from her shop. The road was filled with vehicles so she couldn’t constantly keep an eye on him. She just wanted to say hello if he turns her way. But the next moment she saw, he is seated on the corner and by the time she crosses the road and reaches out to him, he was laying down on the walkway, with his eyes wide open, looking into nothing.

She told that, it was an easy death and that he did not struggle much, it all happened in a couple of minutes. I turned 20 that year, still studying Bachelor’s in Films in an arts college nearby. I was at an age to understand what had happened but not in a situation to accept the fact and live with it. After all, he was the only family, I had. I have known everyone else only by the photos.

But after 2 years, a year of college break due to loneliness and lack of funds. And another year of struggle to re-enter the college on doctor’s and teacher’s insistence. After a long struggle of dealing with his absence, here he is, right in front of me. A man whose cremation still replays in front of my eyes, whose love is what I miss and whose absence, turned my life meaningless. He entered my room with a rhythmic knock, that he taught me when I was a kid with a strict instruction to open the door only to it and never to any others. 

I had many questions, but I kept quiet and continued to watch him, hardly blinking with a fear of losing him out of my sight once again, forgetting the fact that all this can either be a dream or my hallucination.

As he re-organizes my room, he has begun to share stories just like in the old days.

“You know the corner house Joseph; he loves the garden and wants to spend time with his grandchildren there.

My friend Lisa, feels stressed as her kids aren’t doing well these days.

Allina seems to be fine, well she has always been that way, neither caring nor inattentive.

John’s younger son worries about his dad all the time, most of my time passes by consoling him.

Our Tommy walks with me in the park every evening.”

He kept updating me non-stop about everyone and everything. Suddenly, I realized he had been speaking about the people who are already dead.

Joseph passed away at 55, a couple of days post my grandpa’s death. Lisa has been ill for many years and finally left this world 2 months ago.

Allina, moved on to the afterlife even before grandpa did.

John’s younger son is 5 years junior to me, he met into an accident with a car, which hit his head and he was found dead.

Tommy, my pet, departed when I entered college.

My eyes grew bigger, as I realize and return to accept the fact of his state.

He noticed the expression change on my face and folded my t-shirt in his hand while he sits down on my bed.

Yes, everything that is running in your head is true. I am not alive, and I came back to see you. All along I have been sharing with you the wellbeing of the deceased.

I kneeled before him, with my broken heart.

It had been a long 2 years right dear? He touched my head flabbily.  

Though it wasn’t as warm as it used to be, I broke into tears with that touch.

This was all I was longing for, a gesture of affection.

I blasted into a flood of tears in his lap, just like a lost kid, reunited with his parent.

“It’s been years, I saw you last time cry. You did not cry on my funeral too” he said, patting my back softly.

I lift my head from his lap, looking at him amused.

“You still got that look, don’t you? Such an open book face you have.”

He touched my cheek and spoke.

“Yes, I was looking at you all this time. Usually, we get to know a lot about our beloved ones left in the living world only when they call for us. You missed me yet never called for me. But you were never that person to disturb others for yourself, were you, my child?” he landed a gentle kiss on my forehead.

“Ok, ok, I will tell you everything over dinner together”, he told interrupting the emotional weather around us.

With that, I looked gloomily at my pocket.

He smirked at me, took me by my hand, and walk me to the table in the hall.

I could see, cheese sandwich, fried chicken, and coke Cans on the table.

“I did not buy them,” I told naïvely.

I got them for you and let’s have it now. Shall we? He pulled the chair for me, and he sat opposite to me, facing me.

“So, begin your questions.” He announced as he picks a leg piece and bit it.

I looked at him for a long time and then asked, “Were you treated well?”

He smiled in response and said “always worrying about others, aren’t you? I have been treated well, thanks to you.”

Why are you thanking me? I asked perplexedly.

“You will know, by the way, your writing was shortlisted for the final screening. Though you did not win it today, maybe some other time. Good Job there.” he congratulated me, changing the topic.

“Why did you come back now?” I asked the question that was ticking in my head for a while now.

“Finally, the real question. I came back to see you one last time.” He replied as if he is living in the same neighborhood.

“What you mean by one last time?” my questions tailed one another, as I sip the coke and chew the sandwich.

“Well, today is my last day in the afterlife. After my exit from your home, I can neither see you from skies nor can I listen to any of your prayers.” He explained

“Is it a good thing or a bad thing?”, I questioned.

“Well, maybe good. I wasn’t informed about what’s next? All I know is no one ever moved on to post afterlife in a short span after their death. Thanks to you, since you never called out for me, neither when you missed me nor when you needed me the most, I was picked to move on.” he replied depressingly

“Are you angry because I did not call out for you?”, I asked shrinkingly.

“Yes, a little because, I couldn’t see you for a while after my funeral because we can maintain one-way association with our loved ones only when they call for us,” he spoke.

“Sorry, you dint get to watch me”, I said gloomily.

“Don’t worry I got my tricks for that”, he smiled.

“So, did you come to me on your last day in the afterlife, to thank me for letting you pass on to something else too soon? Is that it?”

“Partially.” He said while he sipped on the coke.

“Which part is right?”, I questioned with my mouth half-filled with chicken.

“I came to thank you, but not for the other part.”

“What is that you want to thank me for? It should be I who had to do that.” I said in protest, wiping the spice on my lips.

He waved his hand, indicating no, still stuffed with food in his mouth.

“Let’s have a clear talk” I insisted.

“Let’s have a bear on the rooftop,” he said and swapped his finger.

I found myself on the rooftop, with a beer can in my hand. My grandfather was seated on a stool in front of me.

He directed me towards the empty stool beside him with his eyes.

Which I gladly took.

“Now, tell me,” I asked.

We took our first sip after a cheer and then he began.

Do you remember your grandmother? He asked and continued

To which I wanted to reply No because I never saw her directly, but I stayed put and continued to listen to him.

“Do you remember your grandmother? She loved me dearly. Never questioned nor complained. She made my life easy, working was my only job, but hers was the toughest, managing home and kids, few times planning and investment too. But she passed away 23 years before me.

My daughter, I should have spent a better time with her. All I know was the kid I adored but not the woman she turned out to be. I should have paid attention to her, encouraged her, and guided her, whenever she needed it the most. She passed away 3 years later to her mother, in a road accident.” He said with tearful eyes.

I continued as he paused, “leaving me behind with you. Right pa?”

“No, she passed away along with her entire family, with her baby in her stomach.” He said depressingly.

The truth hit me at once, my hand lost its strength, the can in my hand was about to slip and my eyes dropped its contact with my pa, gradually growing heavy with tears.

He held my can, lift my chin, and told me, “You are my blessing. Thank you”

I looked at him all confused, my face emanating all my questions.

Is it true? where did you find me? why did you take me in etc.? he begins to answer them one by one as if he read my mind.

“I found you in a basket near Nine Cross Street bus-stand around 11 p.m on my way back home. You were tiny, maybe months baby, quiet like you are now, and kept playing with your fingers and foot.

I held you in my arms and begun searching in every possible direction for the person who might have left you behind. But I failed. I couldn’t reach the police station at that time and your look seemed deeper and uneasy, but you weren’t crying.

I took you home, feed you, kept you warm, all you did was sleep or look at me. I complained to the nearest police station and kept you with me with their permission for a while. Days turned weeks, weeks turned months, and months into a year. By this time, I partially grew fond of you and another half I was worried about you. I was scared to live an expressionless child in new care. So, I adopted you.

My neighbors and relatives were against the idea of a retired old man taking in a child, but soon they all accepted it and begun to address you Emma, Emma Jason granddaughter of Jason Jr.

For years we thought you were mute, until one day, when I was late from work and you were waiting for me at the entrance of the home, staring at the gate. You ran to me calling me Pa and cried holding me, that was the first time I heard you speak and cry. “

I kept listening to the stories he shared, with teary eyes.

Suddenly, he told. “Remember when you got your first period?”

I asked, “I thought you did not know it at all.”

“I was married and had a daughter, it would be weird if I dint know”, he responded a little sensitively.

“Okay, but why bring it up now?” I asked

“Aunt Allina did not come suddenly because she was missing you. I kept pestering her till she comes and help you.”

“I always felt the timing was off.”

“It was difficult for her to understand you in the beginning, and I had to interpret every time.” He said hitting his head.

“With no family and friends, I always worried and waited for your call”, he said looking at me with watering eyes.

“Why didn’t you call me at least once?”, He asked

“I didn’t know, if I had called, you would come”. I said dumbly.

“Till I found myself in your absence, I did not understand, why people said I was a lonely child. Things weren’t the same, ever since. I didn’t have my only family who could cook according to my mood, sing me to bed even when I say I am not scared, play with me, and kept me company till I recover from Tommy's death.

After you passed away, life became unbearable, with no purpose to keep it going on.

Calling a man, who would always be with me even before I miss him or need him is new and on top of it, the thought of calling for you and receiving no response in return itself broke me a thousand times. I did not take your name, even on my toughest times, not because I don’t want to, but because I couldn’t bear the void in response.” I shredded tears as I spoke my heart out.

He hugged me tight and told, “you taught me mother’s love, affection, and sacrifice when I am 60 years, you not just made me realize the value of my wife and daughter but turned me into one for you.”

“I found my purpose after retirement, and you shall find it sometime. And when you do, all your time will seem worthwhile. I Promise.” He said hold my hand in his.

We both forgot our beer cans and kept speaking for a while, then when the clock was about to hit 12. He said its time for me to leave.

I didn’t want to, but it had to, I couldn’t send him off well the first time, so I wanted to do it properly this time.

I opened my arms wide and hugged him tight and said with my tears-filled eyes, “I shall stay strong and find my purpose, live the worries to me, and stay at peace.”

He responded saying,

“Life was not easy with you, but it wouldn’t be life if it weren’t for you. Thank you, my love.” And he vanished into thin air.

The next moment I opened my eye, I found myself on my chair, in front of my study table.

I wondered if it was all dream and checked my room and hall.

It wasn’t a dream for the chicken is still hot and ready to eat on the dining table.