Thursday, March 8, 2012

Who will cry when I die

I got into my bus to Pondicherry (now wait, I was to Pondicherry to Aurabindo ashram); I want to spend a day with myself, just me and me alone (I’m alright, still didn’t go insane). 

I got into the bus which was luxurious, comfortable but the very moment I sat “what if the bus meets with an accident? What if I die?” I thought.  Not an unusual question, which comes to my mind whenever I travel.  Still, I don’t stop traveling also ridiculously my mind never stopped thinking the same question.  But this time I have some courage to die, do not know the reason though.  Another thought came to mind, title of a book “Who will cry when you die?” O! Good question.  Who will cry when I die?
Immediately my mom came to my mind, who was always under the governance of my father after her marriage and atrocity of her father (of course, my so-called grandfather), who I never treated as a women who is controlled by a man or just a Mom who listen to her son (grown up) but allowed her to be and talk whatever she like to (though I do not listen sometime, at least I act).  She sometimes breaks my costly things and feels for it and I repeat my philosophy “they are just luxurious craps, made to be broken, not human hearts” just to make sure for her to feel that I am not like my father or her father.  When I die, who will be there for her to make her feel comfortable! For sure she will cry, but then days will pass on, she will get back to her life and repeat her quest, looking after her husband. 

Next, the lady who felt that I am bad just because I am behind her (of course the one I never thought of hurting), came to my thought again with gist of her gestures like panorama.  Will she cry?  This is a million dollar question for me (of course only she could answer). Or at least will she be happy that a bad guy died and will she curse me to hell.  And nobody will be behind her, nobody will wait for her, nobody will long for her sight, nobody will follow her (of course that bloody ‘nobody’ is me).   Do not worry I will not follow you as a ghost, or at least I do not believe ghost (but devil).

My best friend the only guy in my life with who my wave length matched (because both of us are a kind of freaks).  Who gave me lump in my throat when he got admitted in hospital, and I almost cried but still gave him my best freakish philosophies to cheer him up.  I know for sure he will cry for the (x+1) + (y-1)th time(what is this? I don’t know but I just meant the rarest moment) in his life when I die. 

My team.  My best ever team, whom I disagree, yell, fight, show my disinterests but then, my people, my team, goodies I really love (only when you think of death you really come to know whom you love, pretty interesting).  My buddies who think (I guess) they can learn something from me and I finally end up in learning from them. 

My goodie, who always hangs over on me, my brother-like guy (more than just brother), my lead of course the guy who teaches me life, I always tell him that he is very strong in personal life (which I sucked), and the guy my Mr. humble and friendly, who sits behind me, to whom I share my most of life’s happenings, I always want him to tell him ‘your wife deserves you man’ and he is Mr. Nice guy.  And two more young chaps, one who I always pull his leg and still remembers his brother when I punch him, and another brother-like buddy, who never hesitated to drop me in my station, bloody bike lover.  Oh! How could I forget Mr. Question, I loved his questions (though sometimes it screws) and for the first time in my life I see everybody likes the spell ‘Idiot’.  And Mr. Atheist, who always clicks like button to my facebook posts and who loves arguing on controversial topics, I loved his argument most of the time.  Mr. Attitude (Attitude, here I mean in positive tone), who always comes his time and leaves his time, and so humble, silent and I never told him how much I like him.  A new chap, though I liked him only after shaving his French beard (just kidding) enthusiastic guy, not sure whether he likes me or not, but I do.  Aha, only two ladies caught among gentlemen’s in the team.  One, my best friend-type, who is up to me, is the height of patience and sincerity and a good friend or a sister-type to share life’s lessons. And  the other lively lady who do not even like to message or ping anybody in messenger but prefers to go talk or call (sometimes bit loud) them and who do not have patience to check facebook, I wanted to tell her I like her liveliness.   Many a times I wanted to tell everybody that wherever I go and if I see something suddenly one among you come to mind thinking ‘you will like this’.  I know, for sure will at least pray for me to RIP (Mr. Atheist, do this for me, for the last time in your life time)

And a lady, to whom I want ask her pardon, for sure she will cry.  Wonderful, how many people I gathered for me. 

I opened my eyes and the bus almost reached Pondicherry.  O! I didn’t die! Fine let me go back, so that they will cry after seeing me back .

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