Looking outside the Window #13

She never truly understood the theory of life and death. Or probably she never wanted to, especially after her mother died. She absorbed the fact that her mother was gone, but she never accepted the actuality of her mother being dead. And why would she? How much can a three-year old girl apprehend anything about existence and extinction?

All that she did was scribble blue ink on white papers in the black room. Blue was her mother’s favourite colour after all. Looking up into the sky, searching for her mother’s face, as her mother told her about the other world up there. She would try hard to gather as much information from around her, to understand what was going on, but things were so messed up in her head.

Her father was as disturbed after her mother was gone. He would want to take care of her but failed to. He Kept himself busy with work and a lot of travelling.

Not much human contact for 6 months after her mother went missing from her life, and finally she was transported to a huge palace like house, with a spacious, green lawn to play in and a room full of shining stars above her bed. Materialistic things would entertain her for a while and then, she would sneak in her grandmother’s room and sleep cuddling her.

She could never forget the first day in that house. That tiny human moving her tiny eyes from one corner to the other, from the floor to the ceiling. It was too big for her to look at in one blink. A wrinkled lady coming out of the right side of the room with a vast pleasant smile that lit her face as well, while her dad standing behind her, patted her to walk towards her grandma. And as soon as the little girl and her grandma hugged, the world filled with love, care, joy and lot of stories and laughter. She saw her mother in her grandma.

Grandma used to take her out to the parks, the circus and magic shows, into the fairy lands of her stories. Her life was filled with colours again. She never kept any secrets from her grandma. They were best of friends. Her grandma would teach her all about life and acceptance, the goodness and bravery, to learn from the mistakes, as she grew up. In return, she used to teach her grandma all about the latest fashion and technology that she had learnt in the school from the other girls. Coming home after school became her favourite part of the day, with all the tasty snacks and playtime and studying and stories. Grandma’s appreciation of her work and studies would always motivate her to do better.

It was the last day of her school. She came home running with a lot of excitement with the exam sheets in her hand. She had worked hard for such amazing grades. All she wanted to do was, celebrate with her grandma. She rang the bell but nobody answered the door. It was strange. “Grandma answers the door, by herself, every time when I return from school. She knows my timings!” she thought. “May be she has planned a surprise for me today”. This got her stimulated. She waited, and when finally nobody opened the door, she took out the keys and opened the door herself.

“And… I am home!!” she said, at full volume, to make it very clear to the entire house. “C’mon Grandma!! What’s the plan now?” But grandma didn’t reply. “I am hungry!” She ran into her room only to find the most unexpected situation of her life. Her grandma was lying on the rocking chair. Pale skin, cold body and a woollen bunch in her hand. A note besides the chair read “It’s a very important day of your life; I am so proud that my pumpkin is going to touch the starts soon! To match up to your creativity, here’s something I made for you”

She took the Brown, Woollen Poncho from her grandma’s hand, put it on, sat besides the chair and cried all night.

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