The Old Man

The Old Man


The old man was dying. He no longer had that charm that he was famous for. He was no longer dominating, was hardly breathing and suffering in his bed that was prepared for his last days. Suffering from Asthma and diabetes, he was in his last stage.

All his life, he remained very firm, confident, and determined. He did lot of things that he was proud of. He lived in Mahabharat range for couple decade looking after a herd of hundreds of cows and buffaloes, milking them, making ghee and selling them. He bought many land and sold those. He grew up in the country, lived most of his childhood in the woods, eating just milk and raw flour, fighting with wild animals, partly because he wanted it and partly he did not know any better things to do. When his brothers wanted to be priest, teachers and clergy men, he enjoyed living in the Mahabharat range, in the snows, talking with wild animals and naked people, still uncivilized living in caves, who were feeding on wild animals and could not speak like other human beings.

He became politician later in his life. At that time, he brought running water to his village. People lived up in the hills and they had to go fetch the water in a river, down in the valley which would take an hour or two. Beside that running water, the village had nothing but a bunch of egoistic primitive creatures who made fun of each other, calling each other funny names and spent their time in total ignorance of the world that was beyond their village’s horizons. He helped poor people by providing food, houses and lands. He gave justice to people with minor or major household issue. Majority of people called him a righteous, just and honest but very aggressive person.

He won the village elections many times to become a mayor. He did many wonderful things for that society who never fully appreciated his sacrifice for them. But he was not afraid, he insulted who were against it, he thrashed them who tried to be cocky, he overthrew those who misused power, he made his path to success anyhow. People feared him, respected him because he was man of integrity and tremendous courage.

He lived his life with passion, very righteously. He married, he had sons and daughters, and they were married too. He moved to a better place. He changed his lifestyle. He quit politics later in his life because he knew at some point that politics is something that can corrupt someone’s value and morals completely. He said “politics is the worst thing that can happen to a good man.”

All his life, he lived with challenges, and overcame them. Not only was he a good speaker, he was very effective healer. He loved people, and he loved jokes about people. He loved scaring evil people and he was very successful. He liked punishing bad people. He respected very few people in his life. In his time, he was himself a symbol of justice and law. Any issues in the village, big or small, people would come knocking his door for justice and he gave his verdict. People respected his authority.

But now he was dying. He had been sick for a week now. His younger son, some of his close nephews, and some of the villagers came to see him. Doctors had already told him that he would not live very long. His eyes were weak, he had become very thin. His son who was living with him asked him if he wanted to go to hospital but he was stubborn. He wanted to die at home. He hated hospitals and the smell of dying people. All his strength was lost; he was suffering from breathing problems. He never accepted his defeat, but this time he knew he was dying.

Every night people came and sat in his room. For a week, he told them to go to their own houses to sleep because his son and couple nephews who were close to him were taking care of him. Villagers themselves did not want to spend the nights waiting for someone to die. They did it anyway because It was just a ritual, a help and a way of sharing encouragement and sympathy to the family.

After nine days in his own room he wanted to shift to a comfortable room, in the ground floor, thinking that the ritual performing would be easier after he dies. His skin had become little dark. He called his son and said: “Let’s not take the medicines anymore; they are giving me more problems. I am not going to revive, just a matter of few days...”

His son became very sad because his father had never given up hopes before. The old man was very accurate in predicting deaths. If people got very old and sick, they called him instead of doctors and asked him if his time has come to an end. He would tell them accurately when to shift the dying one to the proper place for their last breaths. Therefore, it saddened his sons and other family members.

His son then called the neighbors to come and stay for that night. From that night he started only drinking liquid, he could not even swallow anything properly. Anything he ate went down flowing from his lips to his chest and to the bed sheet. He smiled at his own weakness, perhaps he was remembering his encounter with a bear one day, long time ago, where he had to dual-fight in the Mahabharat range. It was a very weak smile… but it had his life written on it. The neighbors became little paranoid. They thought he started losing his senses. There were little whispers in the back of the room which was full of people.

The night went well, without him saying any words. He could not sleep all night; just put his head on the pillow and breathed heavily. People thought the old man was not dying, because he had not lost charms of his face yet. He could still speak in a clear voice.

“For a few weeks, nothing is going to happen” they said.

His son had not gone to his job for a week now to stay with his father in his last hours. He too did not sleep all night but in the day time, he took turns with his cousins and took naps here and there.

Eleventh day, and the number of people started growing in the house. People knew that he was sick. They came to see him from different places. His relatives, sisters, well wishers, his colleagues, his friends, whoever knew of his condition came to visit him.

They came to him and touched his hands and asked “Mailaba! Do you recognize me…? You will be okay in few days …don’t worry…”

He looked at them with disdain, a strange look that would make people think that they had said something very childish, because in those groups there were not many people that he liked. He said only this- “I know you all perfectly well.”

That day, he wanted to be alone with his younger son. He asked time and again to the villagers that were looking after him to leave the room vacant for a while for some fresh air. It was obvious that he was trying to talk something important to his son. People were therefore interested. They went outside the room but their ears were still inside.

One fat neighbor said “May be the old man is going to tell him of his old treasures that he had been hiding….”

Another said “Perhaps he is hatching plans not to give his older son his share of his legal share of his property. I heard that he hates his older son…”

“Well, he is probably afraid of his sin that he committed in his youth and going to confess to his son….”

Another got involved “I have heard that he does not speak to his older son… may be he does not even want his older son to perform the ritual after his death…”

“Have you seen the younger daughter is law, people are talking that she is a witch…she told me other day that my cow looked very strong and healthy and now my cow is sick, not even letting me to milk ….I can’t stop thinking it is because of her….”

“Who was that girl who was feeding him juice a while ago…, one smelly neighbor who was there for the first time said, “She has exceptionally large boobs…”

“….feed the old man your milk ….the old man is weak…”

A long laughter followed. Outside the room, people started to smoke and talk loudly.

One of his grandsons who was going to the room was listening to all this. Hesitantly, he walked through the crowd to go inside the room.

The old man was talking to his younger son and two other nephews in very low voice.

“Hey babu, you go away! They said to the kid, “kids are not supposed to be here.”

“Let him come” the old man said.

The boy touched his grandfather’s soft hand. It was warm. The old man had very long, smooth and beautiful fingers. The boy rubbed it very gently between his own hands like he used to. For few minutes both were lost in memories.

The boy used to pull and stretch the skin of his grandfather’s back hand, which was not very responsive and used to start counting the seconds in his watch to see how it will go back to its original position. And the old man loved it. The boy loved to massage his grandfather’s feet.

The kid used to say- “grandpa! Do you want your feet messaged today?”

“No, go do your homework!”

“I have finished doing homework… do u want oil or just with bare hands?”

The joy was not in messaging, the joy was to listen to his grandfather. Every night, all the family members and the guests, many of whom were not even invited and many of whom never stopped coming to stay overnight, would be in the old man’s rooms after dinner and they would talk. The old man would tell jokes, and stories of his life.

“Hey! Are you messaging my feet or just shaking your body to fool me?” the old man would ask. And people looking at them would laugh.

And the kid would blush, and lifting his both feet in his shoulder, would say “when you die, I will carry you like this...”

People would scold the boy but the old man and the kid enjoyed the jokes very much.

His mother would come and say “Babu, can you take the trash out?”

The boy would say- “I don’t feel like doing it.”

And the old man would add, “Yeah that’s right, I and he are very lazy, we don’t like to work, we just want to eat delicious food and sleep…nothing else.”

Both would laugh at her. They were two jokers, one soul.

Sometime the kid would ask the grandfather- “Grandpa, can I have a dollar?”

He would reply- “just you dollar? You got five”

But today, the boy could not speak. His grandfather was really dying. The boy was not sure what to say. He was hesitant to say anything because he had never been in that situation before. He stood there, stiff like a pole, watching his grandfather’s watery hazel eyes. The old man also could not say anything either. Nothing more had to be said … everything was expressed through their eyes; there was a synchronism with a very silent melancholy in both their hearts.

“What kind of grown up kid is this? Even at this time, he stays there without word. Ask your grandpa if he want to tell you anything…” one of his uncles said.

He heard someone outside the room said “stupid kid… why is he there? He will be scared. Let him out…”

The boy was silent and still not sure what to say. The old man was still smiling at his grandson, with pain but with very cautious bright hazel eyes. He also knew that it will be the last time. His son and nephews started cleaning the room a little bit. With courage, the boy sat near the old man to offer him some water to drink.

“Do you want to say …” The boy had tears in his eyes and there was a lump in his throat.

The old man whispered- “I am going…. we were pilgrims, just met in the rest area, under a tree shed, we enjoyed it when we were together… you have a different journey now…. …I am going back tomorrow… we will meet someday again…You and I don’t cry. Go now!”

The boy knew his grandpa never lied but still could not believe his grandpa was dying. He went outside, to upstairs where he could be alone.

That night the old man told his son to call his close relatives to see them for the last time. The neighbors now thought the old man was out of his senses. All night his face glowed like a moon and he was very silent. His son was scared and called some experienced people in the village to check on his health progress. People came and checked his wrist and said he will be okay for couple of weeks. His son was still worried. That night there were lots of people watching for him. The room was full.

The old man’s daughters and some daughter in laws who were serving and preparing food for the guests and relative who had come to see him were also tired.

“How long are we going to feed the whole village?”

“People are asking for certain food, certain vegetables as if they are ordering in a five star hotel…..”

“I am tired of the smelly shoes of these relatives; I think they have not washed those socks for years…”

“I wish the old man dies soon… we love him but it is very painful for him as well….he will get salvation from the suffering…” a big mouth relative said.

“There is no privacy in this house, we can even change our clothes …people are everywhere…”

The sick room where the old man was taken was also full of gossips all night. The boy was tired and was deprived of his bed because he had to share his bed to some relative who was snoring loudly. So he went to check his grandfather again. People were talking about the whole world.

“Oh did you hear about Clinton? He has accepted that …Shame on him, he is the ruler of this world….”

“Do you think there will be peace in Bosnia...?”

“What the hell with the moist, they killed 25 policemen yesterday in Rolpa and the government is doing nothing… “

“This is kaliyug, now the end is near; the time is now for the messiah to come save us….”

“What do you think about the sex tape of Aishworya rai? I think it is fake…I don’t like her acting anyway…”

“I hate Girija, he can’t be prime minister now. He is an Indian poppet….”

“….It is hard to pass time, let’s play card to spend the rest of the night…”

. They were laughing, and arguing and throwing their hands in the air. The son and his two close nephews did not know what to tell the villager and relatives. The old man who was closing his eyes to ease his pain a little bit, was so annoyed that he raised his head a little and said “Don’t be so loud. Go to your houses.”

The crowd in the room kept their silence for few minutes and they started again.

“The old man’s domination has not yet gone. He is not going to die for at least a week….” Someone outside the room whispered.

Someone in the crowd saw the grandchild peeking from the door to see his grandfather.

“Hey Kid! Go to bed,” someone yelled at the boy.

The boy went upstairs in the room, tried to sleep but he doubted he would see his grandpa next morning.



Feb 9th 2010