I was still staring at that old grandfather clock. It was a quaint artefact, brought to India by my grandfather, from England. He was a nice, funny person. I remembered my childhood days in this very house. This house had been my home for many long years. At that time, the war was still going and both my dad and granddad were in the army. I was very young, probably a decade old then.
I was amazed to see this house still standing. When my family and I left for England, fourteen years ago, this house was then probably forty four years old. I know, this should not be standing, but by the grace of God, it is. I arrived here at India only just yesterday and I came across my old house. I could not recognise it in the beginning, but when I noticed the strange looking well in the backyard, old memories began to flood my mind.
This clock was very valuable to me. Before my grandad left for the war, he gifted me this clock. He had said that he had bought that many days ago, from England. He went away that day and he did not return back to our hometown. We assumed that he had died there.
The house was in ruins. The old paintings given to my granny by the king, were still visible, the colours bright and shiny. I went round the house. My grandpa’s stamp collection was hidden in the ruins. I came across an occasional snake or beetle, but I liked their company. I was about to come back to the main hall, when I noticed that door. It was, as I recalled my grandfather’s own room, a room of undreamed-of artifacts and manuscripts. He liked to collect historical objects and I often saw him writing books. I had not gone in there much, probably just three or four times in my whole childhood.
The room was dimly lit, everything lay messed up on the floor, as if someone had come here lately. I wondered what would someone find here, except just old papers. Maybe Grandfather would find his own papers of interest here, but he was not in this earth anymore……probably.
I was going my way back, when I heard something moving behind me, I was numb with fear. I did not dare to look back, in case it was something supernatural. I was still standing, all my senses numb, when I heard that voice from behind, a vague, sweet, known voice. The voice of my dear old granny, who was …..dead.
“You have come back sweetheart? I never thought you all would remember me, you all just left me lonely and went away!”
A white hot tear fell from my wet eyes.