The Ghost who walks.

I saw a ghost today. Knew about his existence since we returned from the US, even saw him a few times here and there. But today was the first time I touched him.

Mr. Patel's is the secret story of Sangeeta / Priya societies of Tadiwala Road. One that everyone knows and sees, but no one mentions. In his old life, he was never loquacious, but he would smile back. I knew his kids well. Zubin was a couple of years older than me, and Anahita was my brother's peer. Neither of them got along with their dad, which was surprising to me, since he didn't look like he would hurt a fly. Both kids probably took after their mom, who was the quintessential Parsi. Loud and boisterous, but smiling all the time. What happened at home stayed at home type of people. But one day we heard that Zubin left home for good, since he got married to a Mallu. Anahita also never ever got along with her dad. She was not that great in studies, but if you ever saw someone who was the dictionary definition of an extrovert, it was her. Always cheerful always smiling, she probably never forgave her dad for sending her beloved brother away from her. She couldn't live without her brother, (and vice versa) and every day one could hear fights emanating from their house.

And then one day Anahita died. At the age of 19.

Mr. P has still not got over that tragedy, and I doubt he ever will. I don't have kids, but I can understand how he feels. He has still not forgiven himself for his treatment of his kids. I doubt he is more than 60 years, but looking at him, you'd think you're looking at a 90 year old. He barely shaves, is unkempt at all time, pees while walking and has about as empty a look in his eyes as is possible. You see a walking corpse when you see him. He was lying on the road today, when someone helped him rise.

Sometimes, you feel that you can't live without your loved ones. It's sights like these that make you feel how your loved ones might survive without you.