It happened in our apartment complex. A boy fell from the heights of our apartment building and lost his life. I had the misfortune to visit them at hospital. I am not good at consoling people. Nor can I cry with people. But I sat there holding the mothers hand, watching two people breaking down to pieces. They sat there not knowing what to do. Dad with his head in his hands with a dejected look and mom crying out inconsolably. We all sat there helplessly watching. No words crossed my mind. I knew nothing can comfort them. I knew they are scarred for life. I knew they can never be the same again. And I just sat there and watched.
The grief, it filled that hospital corridor and spilled across to everyone out there. I accompanied the parents to see the boy one last time. I don't want to write about it. It's GRIEF, in big bold capital letters. I had to write at least this much. I had to flush it out of my system. I was shaken. I am alright now. Soon it will be a distant memory for me. But what about them. How will they survive? I do not know. Sometimes I do think I know a bit about life, after living so many years. Then I witness something like this and realise I know nothing about anything.
Grief... I wish that word can be erased from dictionary. None of my philosophies could explain it. My sense of justice is completely shattered. When you see such deep grief, all you can do is bow to it and hold the person suffering closer to you, because no words or actions help.
I am not so much of a believer. But all I can say is may god help them and give them the strength to go through it.
Grief... is a miserable word!
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