Petrichor

By Vaibhavi Pimplikar

The golden chain slipped through my fingers, an 18 year old boy, walking down the sun-drenched street to the grave of his nana. A thief whose face was covered by a scarf, stole the chain threatening me with a knife if I had followed or didn’t give in silently. So, I handed the robber what he wanted. My walk slowed down, my eyes drying further, it was the last thing I got from nana. I wanted to rush behind the thief but not because it was the gold with monetary value that I had lost, but it was the person that gave it to me. My eyes filled with pain and agony at the insensitivity of life, and the lingering feeling of sadness in a small cup of heart. The thief escaped before my eyes and when I looked around there was no one watching out for me, except for the grave of dead grandpa. When you are right there, at the face of harsh reality you don’t really know what’s the best thing to be done. Being on your own is one thing nobody prepares you for. Standing under the afternoon sun, I saw what life looks like when you are on your own and my eyes drooped at the sight of it. 

Nana was the only family I had. We lived in the same small apartment on rent for years in Florida hoping to save money for buying a house in the future we hoped to be in together. But life plays a different role for everybody I guess.

He was a man of wit and often challenged me to a game of chess. If I made a mistake, he would yell, wrong move son, and then, check my king. 9 out of 10 matches were won by the Mr. Sherlock of chess, he knew every move, he knew the counter to almost any attack, double attack technique, deflection, all his strengths. He was so skilled that he often won, earning the nickname 'Grandmaster' among his friends. But tonight, he was simply Nana for me.

The thief was long gone, vanished into the mist that had descended upon the sky. It felt like a harbinger of rain, or perhaps a reflection of my own tears. The world around me blurred, forming a distorted image of reality. A single tear escaped my left eye, a stark reminder of the surreal beauty and sorrow that life and death could bring.

Somewhere in this world, someone is happy for a child being born and someone is mourning for the loss. The cycle of birth bringing happiness while death, sadness. How simple the life of human is and yet how complex the emotions are. I believe happy endings are mostly a mythical concept and happy moments a realer one.  They are tangible, real experiences that could be cherished. 

I swallowed the heavy weight of my grief, understanding that it was a complex emotion, a mix of sorrow and acceptance given by life like something one must be taught of.

The sky darkened ominously as the sun retreated behind a curtain of swiftly moving gray clouds. A chilling breeze swept through the air, carrying with it the first droplets of a mournful rain that seemed to weep for Nana's loss. The wind brushed the leaves of the stone on which was carved his name, Aarav Joshi. 

The  air was heavy with petrichor, a rich, earthy scent that reminded me of a stark contrast life has between possession and non-possession of material; that how happiness is far beyond life and death, that it is only abstract in nature, something not subject to anyone’s presence or absence and maybe that’s why when one goes in the search of it, one finds nothing. Because that is where true happiness comes from; the realist would believe the source of peace was always, nothing. Nothingness of something can hold more happiness sometimes, as it is the only thing that causes the least pain and hence when one thinks of having nothing, one remains happy, when one is not attached, one is free, and the cause and effect follows the same cycle for many years to come. 

The rain began to fall, a gentle drizzle that soon turned into a downpour. I stood there, my face exposed to the elements, the cold drops stinging my skin. But I didn't mind. In a way, the rain felt cleansing, a symbol of the tears I couldn't shed.

I closed my eyes and let the memories wash over me. I saw my nana's face, his kind eyes full of love. I see Nana smiling at me for one last time before he clears his throat to casually say, “Why would you lose hope today? Tomorrow we all will be one again, so why not live today for your own sake, for the sake of who you might become. I am never truly gone, it will always be the way it was. I need you to trust yourself a little more from today, for I will be with you every step of the way”.

And in that moment, the weight of loss seemed like feathers, something less to carry, it felt okay to not worry so much; to just relax. I think that’s what he would have wanted me to be, to be free. I felt the warmth in the flowing breeze, the comforting presence that had always been there for me as I depart leaving a bouquet of flowers for the grave of my nana.

By Vaibhavi Pimplikar