A FRIEND OF MINE

              

Grandpa was having a siesta sitting in a rocking chair and the chirping of sparrows was a lullaby. Daylight pouring in from the large arched windows rendered his torso and face a majestic golden sheen. It was his favorite part of the day, a gentle breeze running through his hair and a good sleep was something that he so hoped for these days. Evidently old age was taking a toll on his physical and mental health.  Now he always needed a crutch to stand strong, spectacles to view the big as well as small things and his sleek skin of youth was crumpled and pale. The death of his wife few years ago had a terrible impact on him as he led a solitary life.  Even though he stayed in his hometown with his son’s family, he never felt homely. All his friends were dead or in some other town with their children. Suddenly, a scream broke his reverie; he blinked slowly and yawned a little. It was his daughter in law reprimanding his grandson; he did not give much regard to the usual ranting. He put on his glasses and looked at the clock, it was already five. 

“Grandpa!!” , someone roared and jumped near him as he gave a nervous twitch before letting out a hearty laugh. It was his six year old grandson whom his doted on so much. “My Sher Khan!! You scare me every single time”, pulling his grandson to a tight embrace grandpa could see how he had inherited his features perfectly. Whenever people noticed how the grandfather – grandson duo looked very much alike he couldn’t help himself but beam with pride and sheer elation.  After all, an evening walk with his grandson was a good escape from the monotony and dullness of his life.  He got up, straightened his clothes and ran his fingers through the few strands of silver hair as if grooming it. He noticed his grandson stifling a giggle, “What did you tell your mother?” he asked.  “Dada, I told her that I am your Sher khan and is free to play”. They let out a chuckle and grandpa surely loved his cheeky retorts.  Grandpa quickly picked a book and set off to the park.

Sometimes grandpa wondered how his penchant for reading never waned even at this old age. “Come early before it gets too dark”, he screamed as his grandson hurtled to the playground.  He flipped through the pages and was soon immersed in reading.  After some time, looking up at the crimson sky, grandpa could see his young boy jumping as sweat tricked down his cheeks and hands covered in mud. The kids were playing kabaddi but grandpa flustered a little as he noticed a boy standing at the edge of the ground looking melancholic. He thought they must have had a row.

“Beta, come back it’s late”, he called to his grandson.

“Dada, five minutes please”

“No, it’s already dark”, he said in an authoritative voice.

Stomping angrily his little lad raged at him, “Dada, why don’t you understand that I enjoy playing with my friends? Didn’t you have any friends when you were a kid?”

“Of course, I did. We were as thick as thieves”. His eyes sparkled in ecstasy reminiscing the good old days. “We were the popular kids in the whole village more like brothers always sticking together. Inviting trouble was our specialty”, he laughed. His grandson had never seen him this happy. “Tell me more Dada”, he implored. “Once we had gone fishing and were lucky to have caught a basket full of them. Then we made good trade and earned twenty rupees. We bought new shirt, loads of sweets and cool sunglasses with the money. All the girls in the village adored it! Everything was fine until a small squabble escalated to a full blown war, prices of essentials skyrocketed and there were no pranks and mischievousness anymore. A state of sobriety reigned over the entire village. We saw nothing but fire, pools of blood, agony and pain.” He was staring at the horizon as if in a trance. His grandson could see hurt in his eyes and nudged him, “Grandpa, what happened then, why was the fight started?”

                                                

“We came here with our families, but that didn’t stop anything. One day my friend was taken away by bad men just because he was a Muslim, we couldn’t find him anywhere. I don’t know where he is , dead or alive but I am sure he will remember our words, “We be of one blood, ye and I”. Books were our only source of entertainment in those hard days, the best things we got.  War emasculates your spirit, cripples you from inside and you reach the rock bottom unable to bounce back”. He was so overwhelmed with grief that didn’t he didn’t know what he was speaking.

Before he could speak anything his grandson darted across the playground and embraced the boy who was standing alone in a corner and exchanged few words. Again he sprinted towards his grandfather. “I am sorry grandpa”, he broke into tears. “Why my lion?” he asked. “I did not allow the boy to play with us because he was a Muslim. I heard some elder say in park that Muslims are bad people. I was wrong”.  Grandpa couldn’t speak anything for a moment. He was so touched by the honesty of his grandchild that tears of joy rolled down his cheeks. “What did you say to him?” he asked. “That we would be friends and ‘We be one blood, ye and I’”.  A smile spread across his creased face as he stood and held his grandson’s tiny hands and walked home. From that day grandpa didn’t have trouble sleeping at night.