The Old Man

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic

you learned to live, you always thought you could make something better out of what you already envied, and you did

Submitted: February 26, 2018

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Submitted: February 26, 2018



"I know you are out there struggling day and night trying to prove your worth, I heard what happened. I know that you won't come back to me but i forgive you my son. I want to tell you that you were always worth something to us and always will, you are my son. I heard i am a grandfather now through the last letter from Rikita. your mother and I are dying to meet her. come back my son. I would find you from any corner of this world but i am dying, and i am tired… come soon."

Coming out of the bureau, he felt the brisk air which gave a chill up his spine. The december's cold is always feverish. Adjusting his sideway bag up his shoulders Prakash caught a glimpse of time at his watch. It was nine p.m. Now he will get in his daily route bus, get back home, eat dinner with his daughter, will sung a lullaby to his daughter. It was all a matrix, always was and always would except the time with his daughter. He has no one except her, he is his only parent. The bus stopped with a halt before him. He get up the stairs. The bus was already filled with passengens in it. The silhoutte figures were sitting in a stack at each row. The interior of the bus is dark, gloomy and there was a mushy feel in the air. "why the lights are turned off" Prakash thought. He conceded to a corner sit at the last row. By the time he got himself comfortable on the cranky sit, the bus was already moving. Sitting parallel to him an old men with gray hair over his scalp, high power specs on his nose. He asked in a husky voice to Prakash with a laugh tingling at his words"Where to?". Rajiv replied "Home", with a tired voice. The old man asked again" you work in one of these sectors? must be exciting!". There was a silence before Prakash spoke"what else could i hope" . Suddenly prakash had a hunch" why the old man so curious about him." Now he asked" where a old man like you off to at this period?". "I am going somewhere, yet nowhere" the man said with a tinge of melancholy in his voice. Prakash didn't understood. He wanted to shoee this man away but he seems to be a creature of curious nature. The bus hit the highway, from what could be estimated from the dark figures prakash figured, a woman sitting on the first sit across the bus door diagonally from her on the right side a man of mid age just like Prakash himself is sitting. They were sitting like a lifeless mold statue. Altough their face turned away still it was giving prakash a chill down his spine that they might be looking at him. The old man asked again" you married". Prakash thought that no one would ever ask him this question again. "was, she died at the time of giving birth to Riku" prakash's voice trailed off when the bus passed the location where construction works were going. The old man gave a pity look to Prakash. This time Prakash spoke with overwhelm voice" She loved me for what I was and never demanded what everyone wanted out of me. I left my home when my father wanted me pursue engineering, i couldn't stand it , i loved architect, always wanted to visit to look, feel, expreince things out there and to write about them. I did anyhow not by the support of my father though. My uncle supported me. That's where i came by Rikita . Not long before we realised we were madly in love with each other. we promised, to get married after getting our first internship in a good firm." Life seems exciting when everything goes as you chalked it out, we got married soon after she got her internship, I was still studying. Riku born and that's when she died. I failed to place a good impression before the interviewer. I dropped out. I didn't knew what to do with Riku. My uncle would have supported me, but unfortunately he was going through his last phase of life and my aunt is not a kind of person who help people at their bad times. Prakash stopped. He saw the old man looking humbly at him. "what did you do then" the old man asked. "I survived, i worked at call centers, i supplied paper to houses i did coachins and all the time Riku was there crying alone no lap to sit no arms to sleep a motherless child. I used to kept her at one of my friend's house. she didn't object. Somehow i got this after completing numerous computer courses with the money i managed to earn. I couldn't capable enough to send Riku to school. Prakash started sobbing his words got heavier " I failed everyone my father , mother, Rikita everyone one of them who wished good for me and i was worthless to their wishes. one night i had given upon myself, then i saw Riku holding my hand looking up at me with bewilder eyes. I couldn't give up on her. I won't be a worthless father. After getting this job i admitted her to school. Tomorrow her final results are coming out, i promised her i would be there. She was happy on hearing that, though i know i couldn't be there and Tisha, the friend of mine would take care of everything"He stopped. The figures sitting some sits before Prakash that women and that mid-age man looked back. Prakash couldn't belive his eyes. It was "He" and "Rikita". They were so happy it was visible on their face. He looked beside him, the old man's smiling. He said " you learned to live, you always thought you could make something better out of what you already envied, and you did, you gave Riku a better life." Prakash's stop came but the bus didn't stop he was already too preoccupied to realise that. The old man said " your father died last week out of heart attack, he made you the heir, he left a letter wishing to be open by you only. Tisha had already taken Riku to your mother."It was too much for Prakash to consume "how could the man so much", "who is he" . "My father died? How do you know that." Suddenly the bus jerked up, glasses started rattling as the bus collided with a railing fence. The bus lost its motion, it went on towards the coming truck from the opposite side. The horror fell upon Prakash face he spoke up sorely " I don't want to die, please…" As the bus collided with the truck the window glasses shattered prakash's got hit at the sit handle. Bloods started flowing down his head, he heard his ribs creaked. Through all of this he saw the old man laughing at him, unharmed. "I am the death, prakash."

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