As a 14-year-old child, I can't describe myself as normal as in those times when other girls were busy in dramas or relationships, I always tried to make myself stronger. I don't know why. My life was in books and those rules that were supposed to make me strong. To be honest, I only had 2 people whom I actually loved - my Granny and my brother. At the age of 8, I had encountered the philosophical and religious texts which said nothing is permanent. I experienced it on September 23rd, 2016.
22nd September - like any other evening of a typical monsoon season, the loudness of rainfall was silent in its own way. I could hear mom talking on the phone with nana( grandpa) and Nani( granny). Nani had caught a cold for some time and was also an asthma patient. But this time some of the people of her village said that she was suffering from chicken pox. Huh, pathetic villagers. My dad had a fractured arm and I could not travel about 12 km on the bike in such harsh weather. We could do nothing but wait for Nana who was going to bring her back in 2 days.
Mom handed over the phone to me and said that Nani wanted to talk with me. As I took the phone, the cries of Nani developed, in me, a sudden urge to cry but I held myself and tried to comfort her. She was in pain. "I'll die babu", she cried. I couldn't hold back anymore. I left the phone and ran into my room and cried.
3 am, 23rd September- I was sleeping when my mom's cries woke me up. Nana called an said that Nani's body was cold and she won't wake up. In the rainy weather, mom hurriedly took a bus all on her own and went to our village. Dad told us that Nani was fine and he took us to the village. There I saw my Nani lying dead on the ground. I couldn't accept it. Because of shock and all those childish trainings to keep my pain invisible, I could not cry even when I wanted to.
A month passed, my mom still cried for Nani and so did my sister but I, my brother and dad didn't cry - we had to hold those 2. After that, the void created in my life made me think what for I was born.
Every person, I felt close to, I asked them this question - what are we born for?
I got many answers but none of them was satisfactory. Then one day, I asked a really mischievous boy in my class. I remember his exact words - for doing something good? He was not sure but he made me too sure. Since that time I took up serving humanity as my prime motto of life.
I know this might not be what I am actually born for but it's not bad in any sense. Still, the painful experience has never actually allowed me to let anyone else grow close to me. I am always afraid because I'm aware of the fact that nothing is permanent and still however much I try, I always increase the number of people I love.
Author Notes: Ok, I messed it up. Anyway, what do you think we are born for?