Today, I went to the workshop. Scootie hasn’t been used for so long, I couldn’t start the engine. The worker pointed towards the owner uncle who, as always, sitting by the table at the corner.
“Uncle, I cannot start my scootie. I’ve called a few times but nobody picks up the call”
“Which number did you call?,” he asked.
I took out my phone and showed it to him. He read the number and said,
“He’s dead. My son.. Accident..”
The last time I went to the workshop was almost a year ago. Tbh, I was looking foward to meet him again. And the first thing I did when I entered the workshop today was looking for him. I was expecting to see him. But who knows I would receive this sad news today.
I broke down in tears when I reached home. I feel terrible for his father, for reminding him of his deceased son. And I feel sad for his death. He was a kind man, always smiling and very helpful. In fact, he is one of my few favourite peoples here in this town.
I always have this plan, to visit all my favourite peoples-him included-to bid farewell before I left for good. Who knows he left first.
Dear Manu anna, I hope someday, somehow I can meet you again, to tell you how thankful I am, for you kindness.