It is rare that you come across a day in Kerala where it is not raining, or I can say that if it's not raining it isn't Kerala.
You know how they say" When it rains, it pours".
It was such a day, everyone was waiting. Waiting for the imminent. There was little conversation in the newly painted house which still reeked of paint. There were A's and B's scribbled somewhere and the typical lined human that little kids make. The ones in which lines represent the body and hands and a circle represents the head.
There lay a similar human on a bed somewheere in a room.
Body as fragile and as ailing as the one drwn on the walls.
Thought the whole room was silent there was a constant chatter of memories flooding the gates of eyes. Some nostalgia, some guilt, some remorse, some smile, some love.. Every tear trickled and took hours to become non existent.
Though it was 3 o clock, the sky pregnant with water was waiting , as if to explode on hearing the news. Dark, gloomy and forlorn - nature was waiting !
He had been ill and though the children tried everything in their power to cure him, there were no signs of progress.
It had been 4 months.
Days which had started with constant prayer to god to make him better were replaced with prayers to spare him from the agony of pain.
As the emotions and memories reached their peak, the sky thundered and opened it's floodgates, as if making room for someone to come.
Though the sky made a grand applause for his welcome, he went away as silently as he had endured the pain those four month.
There was relief and a sense of closure for the children.
This rainy day was to be engraved in their memory forever.
Their loving papa finally bade good bye.
