My Best Friend...

"Best Friend", the one who understands you, loves you unconditionally and is always with you. Everyone has a best friend, I had too....

My Grandfather, he was my Best Friend, and still is. We both love each other a lot. He was the one who understood me, cared for me, made me feel like "I am a princess". In Hindi, we call our Grandfather "Dada" but I never called him that. I used to call him "Baba" and he never called me "Twinkle", he used to call me "Binkle". 

I loved the way he looked at me, but I loved it the most when he used to call me and used to give me different different things all the time. He used to give me peanuts, fruits, Kulfi (Indian ice-cream), money, etc.

He was so possessive about me that he never allowed me to go and play outside with other children. He told me that if I want to play then I can play with him only and not with other children. He never asked my other siblings for anything, he just spent time with me, gave me things to eat, played with me, and loved me.

One day he called out for water, he asked my brother to bring it, my brother passed it on to my sister, but my sister didn’t obey his order and passed it on to me, as am the youngest I had to obey her no matter what. So, in the end I was the one who gave him water.

Last days with him, were so sweet, his big eyes, his puppy face, etc. I just regret why did I go to school that day, why wasn’t I with him?

I was just coming back from school, swinging my bottle here and there, with a big smile on my face. From a distance I saw my brother pouring water to some people outside my house. I was like “Wow, my brother is actually doing some work. Great work bro, keep it up.” I wanted to speak all this on his face.

Then when I entered my house, I saw all foot wears were lying here and there, and when I entered the living room, I saw my aunts and mom crying hard over a white bed sheet. I was saying to myself “What is happening in my house? Why is everyone crying? Are they crazy?”

Before I could ask anyone in the house, my mom called me and asked me to uncover the bed sheet and see it. My brain had millions of questions, but I obeyed my mother and without asking anything I started drawing the bed sheet. As I was drawing it, my hands were shivering. I was pulling the bed sheet so slowly like any Indian saas-bahu serial.

When I was pulling it I could see grey hair, and a wrinkled forehead becoming visible. The time I reached the eyes, I got up in anger, my eyes full of tears; I could hardly hear anything at that time, because the last thing I remember is changing my clothes and someone telling me to go to my aunt’s house.

I wish I could spend more days with him; I could be there in the morning with him. I’ll always love him, won’t stop remembering him and his beautiful voice. RIP Best Friend………