by Ali Hashmi

Created on: June 09, 2009   Last Updated: June 16, 2009

He was taking his final gasps while I was sitting beside his bed waiting eagerly for his suffering to end. I can still remember the night when I lost my guardian angel. Tears were tumbling from my eyes and I was wishing a miracle could just happen and revive him but all my cries were futile. Then I knew there was nothing in my capacity that I could have done either. I can imagine how hard it is to bear the bereavement of somebody so beloved. But now, only vague memories dot my mind.

I used to live in the city whereas my maternal grandfather lived miles apart in a village. Whenever the summer heat became scorching he was the first person to call me and told me to come to him for spending the long summer vacations. My village is situated on the banks of the Chenab River and cooler mild breeze blows throughout the afternoon in summers.

My grandfather was the person whom I accompanied during the long pleasant walks in the morning through the fields. Our course always ended to the fields where melons were harvested. He used to help me pick the best ripened melon from the assortment. And then the most amazing stunt he used to perform was always a treat to watch that is the way he used to break the melon into half with his elbow.

Then after walking long when I used to get thirsty he used to pluck me some sugarcane and prepared the best thirst quenching drink for me. This was an incentive that motivated me to walk with him for miles. Moreover, late in the afternoon he used to make me a glass of lassi a drink made from yogurt, sugar and water- that often rendered me asleep because it had a sort of sedating effect. I used to enjoy most the time that I spent with him on his poultry farm where I felt amused on seeing the little chicks cuddled together. I waited the entire day for the late night stories of which I still remember most.

I remember obscurely that in my childhood I used to go out with him to the yearly carnival and he used to buy me confectioneries and on top of it used to see the magic shows with me. He made sure that I enjoyed thoroughly before reaching home.

I used to bag a lot of memories before the summers ended. But the most terrible memory that I bagged was the summer of 2001. This time it was not my grandfather to call me but my grandmother who called my mother and told her the shocking news that grandfather had brain hemorrhage and had been hospitalized. I was the person who was disturbed most by this news.

I went with my parents to the

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