Bereaved

It’s going to be 4 days since I last heard him. I miss him. So much that every time I think of him I start choking and I am forced to divert myself. But I really don’t know if am ever going to forget him. But life must go on.

That morning was just like any other. I was tying the lace of my white shoe. We had PT that day. I was looking forward to lazing away with my best friend escaping our PT sir’s occasional angry stares. Like usual, mom wanted me to tuck his shirt in for him, once he had done eating his breakfast. Some brother I had! Little brothers could get really annoying. And I had to live through it every day. I went to the table walking on my toes, careful not to dirty the floor. I looked up at the clock. We had 5 more minutes for the school bus to come. To my utter horror, I found him having stained his white shirt with brown chocolate milk. Great! Now I am going to be blamed, I thought miserably. Before my mom could come in and find him in a mess, I helped him change. By the time we were ready, the bus had already come and was honking madly. My mom was trying her best to keep the fuming driver wait for a couple more mins. We both hurried off to the bus. Panting, we both got into our favorite seats and settled comfortably. For some reason, he started giggling madly. I was very annoyed. But I couldn’t help myself and I joined him in his maniacal laughter.

A few more stops, and the bus was crowded. That is when it happened. The driver stomped on the brakes very hard; so hard that we were thrown off balance. My little brother, who was sitting on the edge of his seat trying to dodge a paper bullet from his friend behind, fell off the seat and hit his head. He stood up staggering and beamed his trade mark beam at me. I was relieved nothing was wrong. But he had developed a huge lump on his forehead. After a while it had grown into a strange shade of purple. He reminded me of some bug that I couldn’t recall.

We reached school, headed off to our classes. I DID manage to spend some time in peace and laze during the PT period. In the evening, we got into the bus again. His head had swollen really bad. Now I was worried. I was praying nothing would be wrong. He tried hard to ignore his ache and continue his paper bullet shooting.

We reached home. Mom was totally panic-stricken looking at the size of the lump on his head lying on his little shoulders. She took him to the hospital. The doctor reassured mom telling it was only a blood clot and that he was going to be alright. With a handful of medicines, mom returned home clutching his hands tenderly. Dad was relieved too.

The next morning, he slept through the day. And when mom tried to wake him up, he popped open his little eyes and complained of a bad ache in the whole left half of his head. Mom consoled him and said he was going to be fine soon. But things only worsened. The next morning his vision had blurred. Mom and dad were having serious thoughts about taking him to another hospital. They did. The doctor told that he had developed some sort of huge clot in his brain and that they were gonna have to operate him. Shattered, mom and dad agreed to it. But he seemed unperturbed. He smiled his way into the operation theatre. He told me, “You wait till I get a chance to see one such lump on your head too.”  And giggled his trade mark giggle.

After that he never smiled or spoke. They brought him out after something like 5 hours of painful wait. But they told he was never going to be fine. He was never going to be.

Now I would give away anything to see him staining his uniform or wearing the wrong shoes. I swear I wont ever fuss about having a little brother. I promise to take care of him like my mom always wanted me to. What should I do to get him back? Its sickening to look at his school bag, his unattended school uniform, his squeeling whistle that he used to annoy me with. May be if I pray really hard, he’ll come back.  After all, he wore his favorite pair of shoes and had my Swat-Kats pen in his hands when they put him to sleep in that box. I know. He is going to come someday, and give me a lump on my head. I will wait till then.