Whenever I think of the movie ‘Bhoothnath”, the only thing i do remember is the scene in which the kid is told that his grandfather watches over him from the stars.
When I lost my maternal grandmother, it was something that took forever to sink in. I guess it still isn’t there yet. I remember, after around three weeks of her passing away, I stood on the terrace of my hostel, looking at the sky, and though I know it was my imagination, I saw her face in the clouds. It was as if she wanted me to know she is there, she is safe.
Then a few months ago came another hit, I lost my other granny too. To be very honest, in the moment I came to know of it, I lost myself for a while. I remember screaming on my brother on the phone, remember being lost as to what to do, remember calling up someone to talk, remember being met by a few batch mates.. but still it is all a blur.
Even then, when I stood alone, I felt she was around. I have repeatedly been told I think so because I want to, because I am not ready to accept that they are gone forever.
Yesterday night I stood on my terrace and asked for them to come, to be seen, felt. Call me crazy, but I dreamt of them too. In this dream, i saw snippets of my memories with them both, blurred together… tangled, confused.
Today, when I do something good, it is not my parents, or siblings, my boyfriend, or best friends that come first to mind. It is them, and my maternal grandmother even more so. I like to believe they guide me, and my subconscious which makes my decisions is actually them.
On a lonely night, or when I feel low, I stand under the open sky and talk to them. I wish I could have a conversation, but that is now not possible. I curse those times when I had a chance to tell them what they meant to me, and I let it slide.
They have left, but are around somewhere. From where they are, they watch over me. And I am grateful to them for it.
Have I told you, whenever I think of the movie ‘Bhoothnath’, I am reminded of just one scene.