Timeless

They stood there somberly around her. The time had finally come. She had been so much to each of them - mother, aunt, grandmother, friend, cousin - and she made each of their lives special. Now they were here, sad that she would soon
leave their lives permanently, leaving behind a void that could never be filled, leaving their lives wanting for the many joys that she brought them. They were sad that they would soon lose forever the magical ways in which she
touched their lives.


With great effort, she opened her eyes and took a weak look around her. She had so many things to say; there was still so much to do.

Years of memories swept through her. She saw her son standing in front of her, all strong and grown up - father of 2. It was just yesterday that he was small and little, running around noisily, often stumbling on his feet and then
getting up with a naughty grin, much like his daughters playing in the corner now.

There stood her daughter, now a mother herself. She had been a difficult one - temper tantrums, broken dishes, yelling and screaming. Surely she was having to bear it all now with that naughty little mischief-monger of a son of hers. Sigh, kids!

She saw her friend standing silently in the corner, looking sad. Hah, the times they had spent together. They had known each other long before her marriage, long before most of the people in the room were even born. Those were the days!

She saw also her nephew - nice little kid. He was glancing nervously at his watch every now and then as he did not want to overstay his lunch break. He had always been the responsible one.

She tried again to speak out - to tell her son that it would be OK and to take care of his daughters the way she had taken care of him, to tell her daughter to always stay focused and responsible, to call out to her grandchildren and collect them in her arms as they absently made some mischief. But it took so much effort. All she could manage was a low croak. They rushed immediately to get her some water and her niece started stroking her soft, wrinkled hand. She managed a few sips of water, motioning it aside with a weak nod.

She closed her eyes. It was useless. It is all going to be over soon. And after mourning her for a few days, all these people will settle back down to their lives as if she was never there. Sigh! She felt weak. She could feel her niece stroking her hand. It felt nice - so smooth, so gentle, so comforting as she started slipping into sleep. Its OK, she thought. I have lived my life. I have raised wonderful children. She thought of her friend - hah, no one here could picture this little old lady doing all those wild things. She missed being young, and inwardly she chuckled. Its OK. My work is done.It is time to rest now...


The quiet assembly was interrupted by a strange absent-looking old man. He knocked and then shuffled in painfully, rudely interrupting the most private of moments. He stopped and looked around, aware of his intrusion.

"I... I am sorry. Is this...", he took her name.

The weary attendants looked at each other, perplexed. Her son was about to step up and say something when her friend interceded.

"Yes", she said, turning to the son and giving him a nod signalling that it's all right.

He stepped back, confused but allowing, for his aunt's sake, the intrusion to continue for the moment.

"Can I... can I see her... please?" the old man asked, almost pleadingly.

The son looked up at his aunt and she nodded at him again.

Slowly and reluctantly, the small crowd made way for the old man as he slowly shuffled past them towards the bed. A young man drudgingly offered him a seat next to the bed. "She is sleeping", he said.

Silently, keeping both his arms on the armrests of the chair, the old man descended into his seat, letting out an audible sigh when he finally settled in.

He looked up at her for the first time since he had entered the room and it was as if he froze. His body stopped moving completely, almost as if he were not even breathing anymore. His eyes took on a blank look as he seemed to
suddenly be focused on something in his head, something far far away yet at the same time, never moving his eyes aways from her, lying in front of him. Every once in a while, his eyelids would flutter and his eyes would re-emerge darker, heavier and flushed with yet another layer of vacuum. Occasionally he would mumble something almost inaudibly as if he were trying to say something. And there he sat, fixated, staring blankly at her, not once looking away - his
face telling some story of intense sorrow that maybe even he did not quite understand; lost in some world of his, yet occasionally focusing back on her as if she were that connection he had long been looking for to get back to
this place he was now in.

It seemed he would just sit there forever, when he finally looked away, his eyes red and heavy, He reached into his pocket and shakily pulled out a pen and a piece of paper. With an unsteady hand, he started scribbling something
on the paper, only to stop in between to look up at her, as if to regain entrance to that world she was taking him to, and then, when he found himself there again, he was forced to again look back down and continue his scribbling.

When he was finally done, he put his pen back in his pocket and neatly folded the paper. He raised his head and looked around, confused, absent.

"Can I... can I give this to her?" his voice heavy, as if about to break.

Someone was about to object, having had it with this madman, when her friend interceded again.

"Yes. You should go now", she said firmly.

"I know", he said, dejectedly, "I should go", more to himself than as a reply, looking down at the note he was nervously toying with in his hand.

He got up with some difficulty and walked heavily to her niece who was still stroking her hand.

"It's OK", his voice was heavy, shaking, "I will not disturb her."

Ever so gently, he took her old fingers in his hand and uncurled them lightly. His face was now trembling, as if he were fighting a great storm inside of him - his eyes red, but very focused, very alert, his old lips eventually
contracting into something that could have been a smile of the deepest elation. Yet with the utmost care, he placed his clumsy note delicately in her hand. It seemed as if he was savoring each moment, and at his old and senile pace, each second he took seemed like an eternity.

His eyes became vacant again, her fingers still in his hand, that near-smile on his face temporarily replaced by a look of serious thought and contemplation. And then his face mirrored what could best be described as a rush of emotions cascading through him like a waterfall. His face grimaced as his eyes eventually landed back down to reality, focusing on her. He quickly closed her fingers, the note in her palm, not with the leisure he had
taken in uncurling them.

He let her hand go, and turned away forcefully, as if reluctantly tearing himself away from the scene. Parting his way through the crowd, he purposefully headed towards the door, his shuffle not so laggard anymore, his face bearing a look as if of determination and resolve. He had almost reached the door, when, suddenly, he turned back to face the crowd that was still staring confoundedly at him.

"Thank you", he said in a weak, broken voice, "Thank you all. You are all very wonderful people... very wonderful."

Then, turning to the friend, nodding his head, "Thank you."

With that he closed the door behind him.


She awoke wearily to some commotion around her. Her son looked agitated and his wife was trying to soothe him. Her niece was no longer stroking her hand. She was still sitting by her side though, looking generally confused. At the other side sat her daughter, looking somewhat amused.

"What's going on?", she looked quizzically at her daughter.

"Some strange man came and left a note for you", the daughter said.

"What is it?" she inquired visually.

"Ahem. Well it says
'Sunshine, the sun still needs to rise,
the flowers still need to bloom,
They still wait,
for your lazy morning smile.

Though I am old and sloppy now,
the gift you gave me is still fresh and young,
and it shines through my life,
like your lazy morning smile.

I never could stop loving you,
Please don't go...'", her daughter read incredulously.

Somewhere in the background, she could hear her grandson snicker, "Sunshine!"
-------------------
"Give it to me."

They were amazed. She had not spoken for days now. It had been soft, commanding, demanding, pleading - a request. The note was placed in her hand and she clutched it with a fervor that was almost eerie.

"He was here?" she managed weakly to her friend who was looking down.

"Yes", her friend said softly, still looking down.

She looked ahead silently, her eyes shining with a youth she had not known for ages.

Playing with some contraption in the corner, her grandson snickered again, "Sunshine!"


Somewhere down in the street, an absent-looking old man dragged his weight forward, sobbing, tears running freely from his swollen eyes.