It hasn’t even been a week since I lost my nana (grandfather). And I am still not over it. It seems like yesterday when I was 8 and I used to sit with my grandparents by the window at tea time and have biscuits with them. It would be just the three of us. It was my nana who showed me Urdu language in writing for the first time. An highly educated man and of immense status, the only picture I have of him in my head is that of when he was tall and strong with a dynamic personality. Seeing him for a month and more in the hospital made me weak inside. His knees folded till his chest, oxygen masks, multiple tubes running here and there on his body, bed sores, skin being just a mere covering for the bones, eyes just sitting in the sockets. At times his hands were tied too. It was really tough to see such a man in such condition. We knew we couldn’t save him as age was also playing a major factor here. But the heart takes over the mind. One fine day we got a call from my grandmother’s place asking us to come over as things were pretty serious then. It was like my nana holded on for us to reach. As if he wanted to see us all for one last time. And yes, that was the last time I saw him, alive. Isn’t it strange when one day that person is calld by different relation names and the next day there are termed as ‘body’? They got him home next day, in an ambulance. It was heartbreaking that he didn’t walk out of the ambulance on his own but he was pulled out on a stretcher. How just suddenly life takes another course. Suddenly many things end. When you leave, you take nothing along with you but you leave behind a mark. Its upto you how you want your mark to be. I miss him already. He has taught me so much in life. I love him.