The Last Wish

I can still hear him sometimes when I think about him. His voice low but vehement. His smile tender but radiant. His face, a mirror of the 7 decades of life and his heart that poured nothing but love for his granddaughter.

Summer 1992. It's just another starry night in the fast-growing city of Hyderabad. My dad brought the old easy chair, grandpa's favorite and placed it on the front lawn. It has almost become a routine for me and grandpa to spend an hour after dinner every night. My sister, still a toddler with an all-time high sleeping rate granted me exclusive time with a man I was more in love with than my dad. I always looked forward to that hour as it lasted only for a month every year. My grandparents lived in a town miles away from the city where I am from. Their visits were limited and hence treasured.

Grandpa settled into the chair and stared at the sky for a while. It was almost when I dreaded he fell asleep that he threw a glance at me and asked if I want to hear a story. One can only imagine my delight when I warmed up his lap and all my senses geared up to know what the wise storyteller has to offer. On such days I learned about mythology, the epics written by the great saints, the wars fought by the fierce warriors and the rich heritage that my country owns. If I was lucky he would tell me about the days before Independence when he was still a youth and when Gandhi used to make the headlines of the papers. The only part I fail to remember is when I slipped into sleep while he was still narrating his fascinating stories.

Twenty-something is a very frustrating age, especially for an unmarried Indian girl. No matter even if she is the 1st in the family to cross overseas, to get educated in a foreign land and struggling to build a career. All they need to know is when exactly is she getting hitched (and to whom. Ofcourse!). Though her parents try to take her side, the chances of surviving the societal pressure are almost slim to none. Grandparents are not an exception too. My dad took every chance to convey how desperate his dad is to attend my wedding. An immediate reply - no more calls to grandpa. This was my way of showing that I am mad. But I was blind to realize that he never mentioned it directly to me. He cared enough not to push me. All he did was sharing his wish with his son.

Fall of 2015. Living in the south of the USA has its perks but I always missed the beautiful fall colors of the midwest. Though the leaves didn't change color, I always looked forward to the change of weather from the scorching sun to the cool breeze. Last night on the call with mom, she hinted grandpa is sick and dad was on his way to their town. I haven't given it a thought as she did not sound grave about it. He is a strong man. He would get over it. I looked through the window and thought about lunch. Should totally hit the food trucks today. My phone buzzes and a text from my cousin read, 'Sorry for your loss. Hope you are OK'.

I could hear my heartbeat rise. I called my dad. No answer. I dialed my mom. No luck either. I texted everyone I know. I sat there dumbfounded. This couldn't be real. It's a bad dream and it's gonna end soon. I would wake up and give him a call. He would laugh coz I sound all worried about a dream. But none of that happened. Finally, a call back after god knows how long. Dad's voice. I turned deaf after I heard 'He is no more'. Tears started flowing. I imagined him in the hospital bed. Did he think about me? Did he think about my wedding? Did he realize how ungrateful a person I am for making the best out of him but couldn't grant the one little wish he wished for? Well, I would never know.

Winter 2016. I am looking at the bride, in the mirror. I would belong to another family a few moments from now. They called for me and I gave myself one last look. Closed my eyes and thought about him. I wished you were here!