Waiting For My Turn

I was 23 years old at my second job. One day somebody told me from the staff that soon our company will shut down as it was running in losses for a long time. At first, I could not believe them, it all looked good to me. But a few days later one person from the staff was called inside the boss room. We all got worried, why it was taking so long? After an hour he came out crying with a letter of his termination in his hand. 

We all sat down with him for two hours, consoling and telling him how good he is at his work, he can get a new job easily elsewhere. He left the office heavy-heartedly.  We all felt sad for him but what bothered us the most was who would be the next. We almost convinced ourselves that we are important to the company and it will never happen to us. 

Every third day a meeting held inside the boss room and one among us was called by the bosses. It was clear to us that gradually we all have to go but, now the question was who will be last one. Everyone in staff pretended to be cool and joking about the situation. But the truth was each one of us was worried and analysing our position in the office. I was silently participating in all the staff meetings. It became the routine, the same tension, and anxiety from the beginning of the day and ends with a termination. It was quite stressful situation. 

Everyone was surprised that I was still not been called by the bosses. A month later only a few people left in the staff including me. Before it was about my ego but now I did not want to be the very last one, the strange play of the mind. The next day, I was called by the boss, I was relived, all the tension immediately dropped from my head and I got relaxed. I happily packed my bag and left.

When my grandfather died whole family went to Haridwar to cremate his ashes, I remember my grandmother was carrying his ashes.  A few years later she died too, again we all went to Haridwar. I still remember the whole family sitting in a tempo traveller and I saw my papa holding her ashes gently in his arms. Something touched me. After two years papa also died, it was so painful. Again, I went to Haridwar along with my brother, mother, and youngest cousin. Suddenly I saw my loving cousin with a strange feeling in my heart.

Two years later my same cousin suddenly died. It is very hard to express how I feel every time. It feels the same how I felt at my office in waiting for my turn.