A chain of thoughts

A chain of thoughts which keeps haunting my mind, same sequence, same intensity, that trail of thought which just can’t get out of my mind:

That one call on 5th evening…my generally optimistic nature first thinking it’s some hoax call…me continuing with my work never expecting that second call…second call from police…that absolute shock…another call from my mother…frozen mind & body…telling some false story to my mom & asking her to rush to Delhi…we running to airport…& then calls & calls & calls…last flight to Delhi missed & we back to home…that inexplicable state…my yowls, my tears, my wailing, my banging of head…but still a faint hope that the news is not true…another reassurance call from my brother in law who reached the spot & confirmed the news…that horror on the realization of the truth…that nightmare of waiting for the next early morning flight…that flight to Delhi which never seemed to end…reaching Delhi finally…meeting my mother…her hope with which she was praying whole night for Kishu to be out of ICU, totally unaware that Kishu actually never reached ICU…he died on the spot itself...that moment when I had to slowly tell her that he is no more…ohhhh why I only had do this…her sudden roar…her eyes…her reactions…& then her silence…me meeting Kishu in morgue…his body in that cold room…in that drawer…on that ice…his face…his closed eyes…that touch which was as cold as ice…realization of the word “kishu’s death”…still an expectation that he will get up & say “Dids” the way he always used to say with a big smile on his face…but no smile, no voice, no reaction…just an icy cold silence…he again being pushed & locked back into that drawer…the whole formalities of taking his body back to our home town…at the airport realization of this big change in our life by finding that Kishu’s body is going in a coffin along with luggage while we are sitting in flight…he could not go with us, he was no more a living passenger…he was packed in a box…reaching our home town…meeting the relatives…his body lying on the same verandah where we all had grown up playing & fighting with each other…that white sheet…flowers on him…people touching his feet…he was no more my younger crazy brother…people treating him like god…but his face still looking as if he will open his eyes & says “Dids”…mom totally out of scene from all this till now…nobody having the courage to ask her to see all this…me getting torn apart internally but still doing all rituals on behalf of mom…convincing mom to come & bid him a final goodbye…that final goodbye which I myself never wanted to bid…fainting of mom after seeing Kishu’s body on floor…me shouting from deep within requesting people to not take him away…me howling…me wailing…me holding his body…but still they took him away…away & far away! So far that he could never come back from there again…

And then either an internal voice or a voice from somebody around me will tell, “Kanu stop thinking, you need to get over this”…Yes, I know I need to get over my thoughts but can I? All I have learnt in last 9 weeks is that there are certain thoughts & pain which you can never get over with…NEVER! You just somehow learn to live with it…live or survive not sure, but you learn to bear that pain either for yours or for your closed one’s sake!

It’s yet another Thursday today…one more week has passed…