The wait to die

a loud thud, and there it was,

the moment everyone had waited for,

the news everyone had stayed for,

the headlines everyone wanted to share,

that fall of the eyes,

that tightening of the body,

that loss of a heartbeat,

the room with a roar,

women wailed, men grieved,

echoed was the outcry,

echoed was the loud thud,

couldn't process the situation,

couldn't process the death,

stared as I sat beside my grandmother,

an amazing storyteller,

lots of procedures, tons of ideologies,

pulled aside, pushed to the corner,

for the ritual didn't allow women,

at an angle with a view,

I couldn't take my eyes off her children,

the outcry for the loss,

the endless tears,

wasn't this the whole wait had been for,

the wait to die,

the wait to unburden the suffering,

the wait to loosen the weak heart,

and I wondered,

did grandmother die in peace,

or did she decide to leave,

you are free, indeed,

the tales I heard,

the discussions I witnessed,

the experiences I had,

the hurry-burry to be done and dusted,

before the dead hits the graveyard,

the money, the land,

the power, the home,

nothing was left behind,

all that mattered was who deserved what,

how much was served by whom,

and what was there in return,

all that wait to gain,

didn't sense a lack of love,

but to question the ignorance that took over,

when everyone knew there was wealth,

and the emotion didn't seem to agree,

where did all the empathy go,

who drank all the compassion,

how did all the love sink,

where were all the ethics,

for I couldn't bear the rage,

felt terrible deep down,

lost all the respect I carried for others,

a life I chose to leave,

and I live with loneliness,

although a big family behind,

in all stages of growth,

youth till now,

known, was the common factor,

the mindset of those people,

who expressed,

not through words but with their wait,

a dozen families who waited,

but unknown was the uncommon factor,

the mind of me,

who expressed not through words,

but with the wait,

the wait to die,

shocked at how I landed at these thoughts,

what difference was it back then,

what difference is it from them,

justifying reasons for the what and why,

the occurring change in me,

occupied was self-blame,

regret, guilt,

ashamed and disturbed,

for the pain unbearable,

the days lifeless,

couldn't handle the grief,

yet a wave of relief at times,

a kick to my projector,

projecting my overthinking,

my storyteller replayed,

the cycle of aging, the emotions,

the life, the karma,

fascinated at the nature of changes,

life seems fitting yet painful,

wondering what the future holds for me in return,

I listen to the uncommon visits,

I remain with the uncommon mind,

and I wish,

I could bring more kindness to this nature of thought,

for I don't have control over its flow.