the hardest thing you have ever done
I woke my younger brother in the morning, told him that we have lost our parent. Not once, twice.
May 1, 2009 –
The day that my father was waiting for, for 3 months, because a pandit had told us that he will start getting better from this day. At around 10 pm, his condition worsened. We laid him on the floor, his neck was in my hands, my mother was beside him. She cried up to one of the relative to bring Ganga Jal from the kitchen, while he took his last breaths.
With all teary eyes, we bid him goodbye and to his illness that shook him beyond limits. My younger brother (who was 8 years old then) was sleeping in my uncle’s home, in the same building. All the relatives gathered up in the night, shrieked, screamed, cried in pain, in agony. We didn’t wake my brother up. We didn’t want him to witness this at such a tender age.
In the morning I went to wake him up, couldn’t utter a single word. I held him and brought him along to show our father, lying in the deepest sleep ever, all in white clothes.
April 19, 2012 –
I left home for the hospital, my mother was in ICU. I thought of buying some flowers for her, the next day was her birthday. When I reached the hospital, in one hour or so, in her extreme painful time, I was made to stand out of the ICU.
Through the gap between the doors, I was watching that monitor machine, the green lines going straight. The doctor came out, said Sorry.
(Can’t write too much about it)
We took her home. My brother (who was 11 years then) was sleeping in my uncle’s home, in that same building. I was told to go and sleep with him, they told me that I will be needed for all the rituals the next day.
In the midnight, when I was beside my brother, and I was done with telling him all the false things about the sound of people crying downstairs, I told him that we have lost her.
I still remember his words, “ab kya karenge?”, he asked. (“What would we do now?”)
The next day, on her 43rd birthday, I gifted my mother, plenty of flowers and a release from this world.
Some of the hardest things, one would want to see.
Death is the ultimate truth.. it is said. True!
For those who are asking about how old I was and what I am currently doing – When my dad expired, I was 18 years of age, and when my mother expired, I was 21. I was in third year of my B.E. Later I finished B.E. and joined an MNC in Mumbai. My younger brother is in Class IX. For some time he was with my Aunt, then he was with me for about a year; now he is studying in a military residential school. Financially I was dependent on my uncles/relatives for one year. After that I have been able to do by myself.
Credits: Rohit Vhora