One

We are not courting, Kate. If we were, as a man of honour, I would have informed you of my intentions in writing.
-Leopold, Kate And Leopold

It's one year since the death of my grandfather. It was 20th of January, a Saturday. Though we have moved on, there is nothing really that tastes good when I go to his house to meet my grandmother. I might never be able to get over his loss. I might just remain normal. The pain I saw from his death was more than all the pain I saw in my life yet. It was slow and it was terrible. Crying couldn't define it - it's too small an emotion. A few tears moisten the eyes every now-and-then. And things continue. I have no courage and strength to visit his grave.

On Saturday I was at my grandmother's house play cricket with my uncle and brother inside the house's compound when I raised my right hand to throw the ball at my uncle who was batting at the other end of the narrow veranda. I did the raising with considerable force and the old tin sheet sheltering the small room behind the place I was standing chipped of a piece of my skin. I felt immediate pain. The first glance showed only a white but deep spot on my middle finger and I thought it was my bone. Then blood appeared as if seeping out through the spores of a think white paper from beneath; as if writing on that paper that it was not bone; as if the whole was being written at once from below the surface; then, as if the whole paper was blotted in red - a color appearing from beneath.

I ran to the nearby tap and held my hand under a gushing flow of water. My other hand of hitting the air in jerks as if that was going to reduce the pain and burning. My feet were tapping to let the earth know that I was facing all the pain in the world. My brother was laughing at me and my uncle had a bottle of spirit with him by then. I refused the treatment for I knew it would bring tears to my eyes. I considered using some bandage. I reminded myself of the packet of tissues lying on a table back home as I used cotton to wipe of the oozing blood. 10 minutes later I was batting and hitting the ball as hard as possible.

All the while I was batting, I was afraid of getting hurt again. I was turning away from rising balls and moving my head back whenever the ball spun more than expected. The rubber ball touched the wound twice but I was by the used to the sensation. My brother had a mischievous intentioned in his eyes when I saw him telling my mother that I should take a tetanus injection. His face looked concerned but his eyes were laughing at me. I somehow escaped the injection thing.

The movies I watched after the last post were 'A Walk To Remember' and 'Kate And Leopold'. I also watched a part of 'Godfather'. 'A Walk To Remember' made me cry. That was for the first time a movie made me cry. I had tears even after it was over. It always makes me feel refined and mentally clean after I spend time in seriousness and tears and then something enlightens me and makes everything look beautiful. I had a similar thing in the evening too after I reached home from my friends' birthday party. I also wanted to spend some time with my parents, but that didn't happen. I tried to take a nap but that too was disturbed. But there are wonderful people all around me. I just have to talk to them and everything becomes great and back to normal.