ਪਾਣੀ ਦਿਆ ਬੁਲਬੁਲਿਆ, ਕੀ ਬੁਨਿਆਦਾਂ ਤੇਰੀਆਂ

I never thought I'll make such a post, but I'm pretty drunk tonight so here goes nothing...

A few days ago, my mamaji passed away (my mom's cousin brother). A man strong enough to survive brutal physical torture from the infamous Sumedh Saini during the times of terrorism, but soft enough to not even think bad of anyone. He was diagnosed with cancer, and the doctor said he has just 2-3 months to live. When I last met him, I knew that was the last time I was ever gonna meet him, and that was the strangest feeling ever... knowing that the next time you see a person, you'll only see their body, and not their living soul. Honestly, I was not very close to him, but when I met him the last time, I wanted to hug him tight, because I knew what was about to come, but I couldn't, because he was not told of his diagnosis, and I didn't want to make him feel like it was the last time we meet, so I touched his feet like usual. But I could feel him dying from inside, because before someone suffers actual death, they suffer ego death first... and when your ego dies, there are no inhibitions, you just cry at the slightest thing that you wouldn't have even bothered about during normal times. My mamaji, a strong man who everyone in the village respected and looked up to, whose colleagues organised a protest against the police within minutes to save his life when he was being framed for terrorism, started crying when he mentioned how much my dad has been supportive of him, and that was the first time I saw him cry... it was like as if he knew somehow that he was gonna leave us, and wanted to thank everyone before doing so.

Now cut to today... my grandfather, who is the head of our extended family, has been admitted to the hospital because he has infection in his kidneys. He is the strongest man I have ever known, and I doubt anyone can ever be even half the man he is. He used to be the toughest man you can imagine. People of our village tried to make him sarpanch by unanimous decision many times, but he always refused. He chose to help everyone without taking any credit. Local politicians used to consult him for advice and support... I'm not telling all this to show off, but to give you an idea of what kind of a person I'm talking about... and becoming this kind of a person is not easy, it takes a lot of hard decisions and integrity. Today, that man is lying on a bed in a hospital. He sometimes forgets people's names, and even forgets who met him a few minutes ago. The man who everyone could count on, is helpless today, and we don't know how long he'll be with us.

It pains me to see such strong men become so helpless... it hurts to see them die from inside before they actually die... but makes me realise how fragile we all are.

All this may not make sense to most of you, but I just wanted to vent out... because I don't have any other medium to do so.