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Word Count: 454
It hangs on the wall opposite my bed - a photograph of my grandpa and me I am laughing while my grandpas safe hands are holding me tightly to his chest Is it only a loving memory If so why do I feel grandpas presence mingled with the world around me My grandpa and I had walked together a long way He was there to guide me to teach me to protect me One dark evening he embarked on a new journey a journey to the unknown The rest of his family was bereft I was left behind Then life continued in its own rhythm The tide splashed on the shore the stars twinkled in the same vast sky I carried on with my studies songs and friends I have passed two years of my life without the shadow of the sturdy tree Storms have struck but I have pulled through In my hectic days grandpa is only a memory encased within the frames of the picture lifeless in this buoyant life of ours There he is sitting drowsiness sweeping over his serene aristocratic face - only to be aroused in times of my restlessness and solitude When silence rules over me I can hear grandpas story of the fisherman and the genie When I am stuck with a mathematical problem grandpa in the picture guides me to the solution When I mistreat the distressed the almond-shaped eyes of my grandpa seem humiliated Whenever I play the harmonium he seems to sit in the sofa in front He listens to my songs quietly and then as I look up he vanishes in thin air As I lie on my bed at night sleepless worrying about my future sparks in his watery eyes begin to float in front of my eyes Every morning grandpa seems to descend from the picture I can hear the clattering of his walking stick as he walks past my
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