The Grim’s whistle
The Grim…. our manifestation of being the true messengers of death or death itself. His presence is so deeply rooted in every living superstitious mind. His presence turns to fear; fear of the unknown and the unwanted……..the fear of death.
An incidence in my life got me closer to the existence of this heavenly or hell based gentleman.
The date was of April , on a relaxed Sunday. My Parents, my brother and me were having a small family tea chat when the phone rang……………
My father furiously dialing ambulance numbers, my kid brother with a scared looks on his face, my mom terrified and myself with a deep fear inside…. within minutes we were at my grandfathers place. He was showing every symptoms of a cardiac arrest.
Profusely sweating, shaking, too anxious, a slight pain in the chest and the terrible vomiting feeling. Even a layman who has seen heart patients knows what it concludes to be. Rubbing his hands and legs, wiping every inch of sweat-broken body, we waited helplessly for either the doctor or the ambulance to arrive.
Worst of fear was flowing through our minds like rivers on a rainy night. We waited, as the neighbors rushed in to help us but with the same fear in their minds.
Then it came like a call of badly wounded animal howling towards a gruesome end. The series of violent alternates of sound echoing through the row of houses in our hood. I was wondering are these paramedic vehicles always so eerie or are they just playing with my dented courage.
Late though, the ambulance had arrived. We rushed my grandfather through our lift, doctor checking the primary ECG-normal, eyes-normal, tongue-normal, any chest pain-not that severe, vommitting sensation-yes a bit………all check ups done, we were rushing to the hospital.
A few hours later, everything was fine; at age of 80 my grandfather had a real bad case of acidity and indigestion.
But what kept ringing in my head was the satanic sound of the ambulance siren, strangly it had invoked in me a much greater fear, as if something worse was coming. It was loud; it was maddening, it was as if the Grim was howling, singing, screeching with his deathly hollow voice which would only bring in death and fear.
That night as my grandpa recovered, I stayed back in the hospital and the grim troubled me with countless whistles that came in and went. He was on job (as he is everyday and night). At few places, he was not that lucky but at many he got what he came for.
Within that small hospital room I thanked god that my soul was intact and I was going to see the new sun; as if laughing over my feeble prayer, he whistled again and went off to a new search.
The Grim…. our manifestation of being the true messengers of death or death itself. His presence is so deeply rooted in every living superstitious mind. His presence turns to fear; fear of the unknown and the unwanted……..the fear of death.
An incidence in my life got me closer to the existence of this heavenly or hell based gentleman.
The date was of April , on a relaxed Sunday. My Parents, my brother and me were having a small family tea chat when the phone rang……………
My father furiously dialing ambulance numbers, my kid brother with a scared looks on his face, my mom terrified and myself with a deep fear inside…. within minutes we were at my grandfathers place. He was showing every symptoms of a cardiac arrest.
Profusely sweating, shaking, too anxious, a slight pain in the chest and the terrible vomiting feeling. Even a layman who has seen heart patients knows what it concludes to be. Rubbing his hands and legs, wiping every inch of sweat-broken body, we waited helplessly for either the doctor or the ambulance to arrive.
Worst of fear was flowing through our minds like rivers on a rainy night. We waited, as the neighbors rushed in to help us but with the same fear in their minds.
Then it came like a call of badly wounded animal howling towards a gruesome end. The series of violent alternates of sound echoing through the row of houses in our hood. I was wondering are these paramedic vehicles always so eerie or are they just playing with my dented courage.
Late though, the ambulance had arrived. We rushed my grandfather through our lift, doctor checking the primary ECG-normal, eyes-normal, tongue-normal, any chest pain-not that severe, vommitting sensation-yes a bit………all check ups done, we were rushing to the hospital.
A few hours later, everything was fine; at age of 80 my grandfather had a real bad case of acidity and indigestion.
But what kept ringing in my head was the satanic sound of the ambulance siren, strangly it had invoked in me a much greater fear, as if something worse was coming. It was loud; it was maddening, it was as if the Grim was howling, singing, screeching with his deathly hollow voice which would only bring in death and fear.
That night as my grandpa recovered, I stayed back in the hospital and the grim troubled me with countless whistles that came in and went. He was on job (as he is everyday and night). At few places, he was not that lucky but at many he got what he came for.
Within that small hospital room I thanked god that my soul was intact and I was going to see the new sun; as if laughing over my feeble prayer, he whistled again and went off to a new search.
