Invisible String

the string climbs mountains

Chapter 13

21st April 2023 (20:15 p.m.)

(Megha)

"Can you please get your books outta here so I can start my work? This is my place." I annoyingly asked Dada.
"Stop getting so irritated. Give me a minute." He picked up his books and other stuff and exited the balcony.
The balcony.
My favourite spot. My safe place.
I'd sit in it while painting or just to...relieve my stress. Gaping out at the beautiful view.
I spread my art supplies, put up the canvas board stand, and started painting. I was painting something for myself after ages. Usually, it'd either be homework or incomplete classwork. But today it'd just be the picture that had been stuck in my mind for a long time that I needed to get out. I needed to throw it out on the paper.
Artists, writers, poets, they all made the thoughts in their head pay rent for occupying space. You couldn't convince me otherwise.
I painted while listening to music on my laptop for next three hours straight. Not gonna lie, it was therapeutic. As fuck.
"Aabha's calling." Dada entered the room with my phone in his hand and passed it to me.
"Hey! What's up?" I said.
"Aaji passed away." She said. I could hear heavy breathes from her end. Panic attack.
"Are you home? I'm coming at your place right away if that's okay." I said while quickly grabbing my jacket and some money.
"Yes please. I'm home alone. Dad just called. Both my parents are at the hospital. Mom is coming home and Dad asked me to make some food because there's none. I ordered takeout in the afternoon because both of them were at the hospital the whole day. I'm trying to get up and do something, but I'm not able to function properly. I can't find my pocket money. God knows where I've kept it. Even if I do find it, it won't be enough to pay for takeout. Just please come here. Everything is falling apart. I need you very much right now." She said while sobbing bitterly and trying to breathe in,
"I'll get some food. Don't worry. Just breathe and sit down and drink some water. I'll be there in fifteen minutes tops. Just try to stay calm and don't do anything. I'll see you. Bye." I hung up quickly and went to the kitchen.
"Mom, can you please pack food for four, if there's any? Aabha just called." And I told her everything that just happened.
"Sure. There should be some rice and rotis. I'll give you some money to buy some curry on the way to her house." She got up and started packing the food.
Aabha's Aaji was probably one of the sweetest grandmothers I had known. When we'd go to Aabha's native place, she'd stock me with gifts, talk to me about wholesome things, and she was just like any other sweet grandmother. I low-key started missing her.
"Here, take this. Do you want Dada to drive you there?" She asked me.
"No. That's okay, I'll hire an auto." I said and quickly rushed to the main road and hired an auto.
Upon reaching her house, I rang the doorbell and Aabha opened the door.
"I miss her already." She hugged me as soon as I came in and started weeping loudly.
We went to her room and she cried while hugging me for the next ten minutes.
I let her cry. A person who's crying should be allowed to cry how much ever they wanted to.
She soon washed her face and sat on her bed. Her eyes were swollen and her face looked exhausted.
"Mom packed some food for you all. Where's Eesha?" I asked her.
"She had gone to Ravi's place. I called her. She's on her way. Ravi's father is dropping her here."
She told me, "I can't cry in front of my family. Mom would already be falling apart and so would Eesha. I have to stay strong, at least in front of them."
Aabha never liked crying in front of people. She'd say it showed people her weakness and as an elder daughter, she had to be strong. I had seen her cry several times. Probably more than anyone ever had.
"Sure. Whatever you think is right, but..."
"I'll make sure I'm okay too. I know." She said and gave me a faint smile.
"Do you want me to stay a little longer or you'll be fine?"
"I'll be fine. Thank you so much." And she embraced me once again.
"Text me when you get home." She said as I stepped out of her house.
"Sure. Take care, please."
The next twenty minutes were full of me rethinking a lot of things.
We have so little time with people. We never know if tomorrow's gonna come or not. There are so many things left unsaid, unexpressed, unheard. The fact that people even expect a 'tomorrow' shows hope...and ungratefulness for today. Life is short. Too short to not express what we want to say to someone. When you think about it, people are often ungrateful when they consider they have ten or twenty or even thirty more years to live. They should be thrilled to even have today. The present time.