RASPBERRY - A Short Story

Chapter 3: Kaka

That night, it rained heavily, which was an effect of a fierce storm that had hit Grandpa's village earlier. He was suffering from arthritis, due to which he had a problem walking. Last night, when the storm was at its highest pace, it uprooted many trees in Grandpas village, destroyed many fields, and also unlatched the main door of Grandpa's house. The problem became worse when the door started flickering like a leaf, and its banging produced a loud, irritating sound that interrupted everyone's sleep. Grandpa and Grandma woke up. He got up and walked to the door. On reaching nearer, his dhoti and kurta were flickering like flames. He gripped them, held them tightly, and made his way towards the door, fighting against the harsh, howling winds.

Rain fell along with the winds. The area was overflooded. It had also flooded the entrance of his house. The floor became slippery. He reached out his hand to hold the door handle. Suddenly, his right leg slipped forward. He had nothing to get support from. He had fallen backwards and hardly struck his head against the edge of the concrete rack. The accident left a deep gash on his head, and on the spot, the blood spilled on the floor, leading to his death on a stormy night.

The door kept banging with the same noise. Grandma called out to Grandpa, but no response came. She got up and reached the accident site. Her shriek subdued the sound of banging on the door and all other sounds of the storm.

Very soon, all the neighbors gathered at the house. Of course, no one would be sleeping on that stormy night. All were choked at that sight. An old man lies immobile on the ground, covered with blood and tears. Everyone was weeping. Grandma was crying heavily, sitting by his side, and beating her chest. Everything was crying in his house. The fair pages that were going to be the letters to me, the envelopes that would enclose them, and the empty, small boxes that would hold raspberries and a huge raspberry tree in his garden. Everything.

To prevent any kind of inconvenience caused by me, I was kept in the dark about this accident. That postman knew the real incident happened there and didn't inform me of it. In fact, he made that excuse.

The next day, he really came, and he kept his promise. The letter and the box were with him.

"Look! Your grandpa has given it to you. This time he didn't forget." He said.

I accepted it. We spent that evening together, chattering a lot.

While we were walking along the road, we came across a tobacco shop. He moved to that shop and asked the tobacconist to make a pan. When we were leaving, I asked the tobacconist, "Have you borne recently?"

"What? No."

"You don't look like a small baby."

"What is the matter, kid?"

"Then why do you have only two teeth present in your mouth?" Actually, in place of 'present', there should be 'left'.

On hearing this, the 'raspberry kaka' laughed furiously, but my face did not register even the slightest trace of amusement. I was still confused. Then we continued our journey.

"You know today is my birthday. I have now become an octogenarian. I don't want to die until I become a centenarian. I want to live in this beautiful world now." His voice reflected enthusiasm. He turned to me, passed a sweet smile, and asked, "Don't you think that I am loquacious?"

"Huh?"

"Oh! Forget it." And we left. He was truly verbose.

His routine continued, with him doing his duty in the post office, distributing letters and parcels from dawn to noon, and bringing my letter in at dusk. Then he began to give his attendance regularly. He had not missed even a single day.