It was a happy Sunday (last week), but then something heartbreaking happened. I knew this day would eventually come, but I sure didn’t think it would come so soon. On Sunday afternoon, we got the news, that my grandpa took his last breath. I know he was 94, but still, it just hurts so much, to think of him, and the fact that I have lost one of my closest people. We were so freaking close. I, in fact loved him more than my grandfather. Yea, he wasn’t my ‘real’ grandfather, he was his elder brother. But I admired him so.
My grandpa was a proud man, and one of the most supporting persons of my life. And even though we didn’t get as much time together as I would have liked, it was in the moments with him that I lived my life. I used to share my secrets with him, which I don’t even share with my mother. I literally lost the lust of my life. When I shift through my memories of him and our time together, there are a lot of things that come to my head. Like how he used to tell me about his memories of the British era; and the way he’d scold mom, whenever she’d shout at me about playing video games nonstop; and, all the long evening walks with him, and the advices he gave me… I missed him more than ever that day, when the realization sank in that he is no more. I miss you so much grandpa. I wish you could come back. Even if just for one last hug. Come back. Please.
By Sunday night, I saw papa had started packing. I asked if I could come with him, and he just looked at me, and asked what was already so evident in his stare, “ will you be able to face all that? Are you strong enough?”. I answered without thinking twice, “I am 19. And I haven’t seen him in months. I wanna see him one last time at the least.” He said, “OK”. It was Monday morning, and just as the train arrived, I started to feel weird, I didn’t know what or why, but my legs felt heavy. I felt like I’m going to be sick. 3 hours later, we were finally in my Grandpa’s house. There were like some 300 people there. All the men sitting outside, in the garden and all the women, inside. I could hear them crying. We sat there for a couple of minutes, while papa was talking to my relatives.
My uncle came to me, and asked if I want to see him, I said nothing, just nodded and went inside the room where my grandpa was waiting for me. I was about to faint when I saw him, not moving, not blinking, and his hand, cold as ice, not on my head, no more blessings for me. Oh god, he was dead! Grandpa was dead! My Grandpa was dead! His mouth was slightly open, and he had gotten so thin since I last saw him! So thin, you can count his bones. I did nothing, just sat there for over half an hour, when papa came and told me it was time for his funeral.
Everyone around was preparing for it, but I was not ready, I don’t think I’ll ever be ready. I know I was blessed to have my grandpa around for so much of my life, but now he is not. It’s his funeral. My grandma was crying so hard. Just like my heart was. It was time. My uncles started to touch grandpa’s feet. After a while it’s my time too. I asked grandma if I could kiss grandpa’s hand and she said yes, but one of the people there shouted at me and said no. before I could say anything back, papa asked me to let it be, to just touch grandpa’s feet. I hate that man so much. His orthodox stupidity took away my last chance to tell my grandfather how much I loved him. My uncles picked up grandpa’s body and start to walk to the cremation ground. I can’t put into words how I felt while accompanying my grandpa in his final journey. It practically broke me. As we got there, I noticed a very weird calmness was there.
But just as we neared my grandpa’s final resting place, things start to change. I felt weird, yet again. I don’t know is it right or not, but this is what I felt. The arrangements there was so bad and disappointing, it was like they’re doing it just as a formality, just to get it all over with. They let grandpa’s body lay open for like an hour. My papa begged me to say nothing, because he could see the anger in my eyes, for the way this great man was getting treated now, he knew how much I loved him, and he realized I was running thin on my self control. The woods were being arranged for, and after a while, they put the logs on my grandpa’s body. Sadness consumed me, but I couldn’t even express my idol’s death in peace for the way that these ungrateful people were; ‘cause guess what? They didn’t even cover grandpa up properly with woods. I could clearly see his face, head, hands and legs. I asked papa, whether they were going to burn him like that? Papa said no, and then papa shouted at my uncle, who just moved a couple of sticks for the sake of doing something! Without telling anyone, he burned the woods. I was like what the hell? I was shocked. And the worst thing that could happen was that the woods were wet. They weren’t burning properly. I was so upset, not just because it was my grandpa’s funeral, but because of the people’s behavior over there. They were literally ignoring my grandpa, like what the hell dumbasses? They were talking about all sorts’ of stupid stuff; “how is your son doing?”, “I’m looking for a boy, for my daughter” and such crap. They were cracking jokes, laughing, giggling. Motherfuckers! My Grandpa died. How could you all possibly do this? I could clearly see my grandpa burning, his head, his arms, his feet, on fire! Something I never imagined in my whole life, happening right in front of me. My body jammed for a while. *My grandpa was on fire* He was right burning in front of me… but after a while, I ran away from there, when I couldn’t take it anymore. After a while people started to leave, and his body hadn’t even burned properly! I begged papa that I want to stay until grandpa’s body will burn properly, my papa understands me, he said ‘yeah son!’.
My grandpa was good with everyone, he loved everyone, I hadn’t even seen him be rude to anyone. Ever. And this was all he got. *The worst funeral possible*. Today I just want to say that, I’m also going to die one day and my people will give me a funeral too. I didn’t know whether we’ll still be friends or not, but if you do love or care for me or feel something for me, then, and only then, attend my funeral.
R.I.P Grandpa, love you to death, your little nephew.