Family Short Story – My Phuphi
© Anand Vishnu Prakash, YourStoryClub.com
I was born at my hometown and raised by parents for first 2 years. I reached my grandparents’s place who lived in a beautiful village, the best and my favourite one! It was a vacation time for family so we were there for quite a bit. Childhood there was always beckoning with freedom, plays, mischiefs and fun and everything a village child is not restricted to do except to just be happy. I still miss those exemplary moments and yearn to relive if the same time ever comes..
Near our granny’s house was our Phuphi’s house. By Phuphi I mean my father’s sister. It was our time to depart as vacations were getting over. Meanwhile I fell sick badly. I was bedridden, weak and frail. Doctors tried their best but not much of a positive outcome resulted. Phuphi advised to leave me there as I needed rest and aid and she assured she will take care of me and I would recuperate well to which Papa agreed. They left me at her place and returned.
Since I was too small and hardly remember much apart from minor anecdotes, people told me that she treated me like a mother. I was given all the desi therapies, showered and pampered with all the attention of domestic people and regular neighbours. Phuphi used to provide me with food, timely medicines, massage and bathing and had allotted assistance too. Proper cooking and feeding by local maids were a routine with smiles and plays. Any deviation in the standard resorting to questioning my sustainability lead to brickbats and volleys of questions demanding explanation. Such was her leadership for care.
In 15 days I was up and running. Yes, I was completely fit just like any other village boy. The treatment and pampers and love and attention that I received had to make me better by any means, all because of her, my Phuphi.
I was in village for good two years at her place, people tell me. I used to loaf around fearlessly and selfishly so much that on Phuphi’s asking what I had with me in my full hands I replied – Needles. To this she just laughed along with other members. I was given all freedom to do anything, with no questions asked ever. Phupha, her husband was equally encouraging to my childhood mischiefs and enjoyed seeing me at my natural best. He and Phuphi were two imperturbable souls who never got angry.
Two princely years later I was taken back by parents. While my memory does not help me recall much but I was told that I refused going back as I thought I was leaving my mother, Phuphi….
I was back home. Few years later we visited village again. I went to meet her, now I was grown up and knew who she was. Her love for me had never lessened, nor changed. She treated me with same zeal of smiles and freedom even then. I was never restricted to do anything I wanted to do. I used to eat, bathe, sleep, play, name it and I did it with liberty. These continued every time I was went there.
Years went by…
One day I heard Phupha was no more. An indescribable feeling for someone who gave the best of what anyone would want from life smilingly engulfed. I will remember him and his nobility till life.
While I went there after the tragedy I could see subtle changes in Phuphi. She was physically there but in thoughts, emotionally drifted. I could just feel the unsaid trauma deeply embedded.
Not much later, she left too. An agony of sigh… A wordless feeling… An abyss of remembrance… A profound silence… Something not at all positive… Something I wished lasted longer, much longer…
As I grew older and mature I realised the importance of something. It was about time. Time plays a major role in deciding fate and life and death and it was her time too. I started respecting time and its decisions. It’s anything above us, our feelings or selfishness. Today I go to visit her at her graveyard and pray for her. I wish and pour my heart out to her. My expression of gratitude will not suffice. I wish I could do more when she was alive. I am sure she is listening to my feelings, my inner ballad of random outburst meant specifically for her, her angelic spirit. God bless her soul wherever she is. I miss her smiles and I smile back at her when she gifts me again.
__END__
