Family Short Story – A New Story
Photo credit: mvictor from morguefile.com
“Grandpa, its 9 now, tell us a new story.” said one of the boys.
“No, leave it today. I am feeling sleepy!” moaned Grandpa.
“You are not going to escape today. You will have to tell one today.” said the girl.
“Okay fine. Come. I will tell you one.” said grandpa.
They arranged themselves quickly on the bed. Two on each side of grandpa. The light was dim. The plot was set for the new story. And finally Grandpa began.
He smiled at him, when he saw him. He came quietly, pulled out a stool and sat on it. He opened his school bag and took out his father’s journal, turned few pages of it, and started reading it to him.
Ryan had been coming there for last three months to tell Rashid a new story. He used to bring his father’s journal with him that had stories written by his writer father. He lived in the apartment opposite of Rashid, and hence was familiar with the needs of him.
Rashid worked in a Multinational company before getting ill. It was a very high paying job. It paid money and tension in great amounts. And according to the doctors, the tension, itself was the prime reason for his condition. Although the medication was going on, doctors had made it clear that he would survive only when he wishes to.
Rashid lived alone in his house. He was a silent guy. And nobody knew what went through him, when he sat in the park alone in the evenings. He looked sad. And deep down he was. Everyone knew he was fed up with his life. But nobody knew why.
And Rashid had once said,”The day which would go without telling me a new story, would be my last day.” But Ryan was the one who told him a good story, daily. He didn’t want him to die.
Ryan was a ten. He was a very kind boy, as generally the children are. He still remembered the days when his mother told her a story before getting to bed. He wanted them back, but couldn’t. He observed Rashid daily and had developed a sympathy for him. He too wanted to give Rashid a similar exprience. This drove him daily to the hospital.
They would together laugh at the funny paragraphs of the story. They both would get emotional when they met with the sad ending of the story. They both were getting close.
When Ryan would be in school, Rashid would quietly urge the clock to hit 2:30. And when it hit 2, he would wake up and sit on his bed, cross his legs and stared at the door. And finally, when he came, they both would smile and Ryan would start a story. When Ryan would finish the story and stand to go, Rashid would ask him to promise that he would come tomorrow, on time. And Ryan promised daily. And then leave slowly.
Rashid didn’t want to die now. He wanted to hear stories. He wanted to see Ryan growing up into a man.
And this was paying now. Slowly and steadily, he was getting healed. And in few months, he was discharged from the hospital.
Even though he was fine now, he would still listen Ryan reading him a story. They would go to the park in the evenings, sit on the bench there, and laugh, cry and discuss stories.
It wasn’t too long from his well being that Ryan’s father met a terrible accident. He was hurt badly in the bones that protect the heart. Doctors said he was having his last moments. “Go keep him happy, at least for few moments.” , they said.
When they reached there, Dad was looking at them. He pulled his son towards him and asked him to sit beside him. He kept kissing his son’s hand every second. He finally looked at Rashid and said, ” Why don’t you tell me a story? Listening stories made you fine. Try on me. Come on, tell me a story.”
Rashid began with wet eyes and dry throat.
The last words that Ryan’s father heard were, “Don’t worry, Ryan and I, together will weave a new story.”
Grandpa looked at them. All were asleep. Grandpa took out his spectacles and wiped off his tears.
And then a man of about twenty-five entered into the room.
“Daddy, are they all asleep here?” he asked.
“Yes Ryan.”, he said, “I just told your children a new story.”
__END__
