My ancestor demands respect

It was a village housing 300 families. Poor, earthy and full of poverty but also full of life. Everyone was doing their best to live on.

Life was hard. Some had lands some didn't. But that made little difference. Men and women both worked on the fields. Growing rice , growing vegetables. 

When they aren't busy farming they are going fishing. Sometimes on the ponds, sometimes on the marsh, somethimes on the river or the ocean. 

If they are not fishing they are doing craft or going to distant places to look for work.

Sharing a single bowl of rice among 10 members or eating only once like that everyday. Sometimes eating nothing at all.

Those times were harsh yet for me are sweet childhood memories. I was small. I was free. Free of the burden called living. Sure my stomach may told me otherwise but I really miss that one bowl of few rice with water.

I'm not hungry now. But I can't that fullness ever again like I felt at those times. Such are memories.

My Mather was very protective. Since my father has always been away to work, my mom raised us all by herself. She was really afraid we will get in trouble. Partly because of love partly because she couldn't afford it.

However that didn't stop us or me from being naughty. I would play with my friends. Go fishing in the muds. Catch mudskippers by the river bed. Catch loaches and small crabs in the floded rice fields.

It happened one a normal day. I came back from my primary school. I left my back at home and darted out to catch some loaches by the river ditch.

The harvest was not bad not good either. Maybe like half a kilo of small loaches, shrimp, snails and river fishes.

When I was going home one of my friends comes running and tells me the news. My great grandmother has passed away just few minutes ago.

I didn't feel anything at the moment. To be honest we didn't have that much interactions. I was more close to my grandmother's than my great grandma. 

She used to come by our house to eat and I also used to go deliver food to her often times. But that was all there was. We didn't have that much interactions. Maybe we did but now my memories has become hazy.

I went home to put the fish on the basket so that cats can't reach them. Then went to my second grandfather's house. 

People were crying there crowding the room. I barely caught a glimpse of my great grandmother. My mother found me dazed and took me home.

To me death was unknown and not that a solid concept yet. I just understood that great grandmother will no longer be there. 

So I went home with my mother. Then time passed and night came. 

We ate and went to sleep.

At around 11pm I woke up. Because my uncle who is living in the same house as us has returned from his work. He is a three-wheeler taxi driver. The sound of his vehical engine woke me up.

He was noticably tired from the day's work. After he entered my mom told him about the sad news.

He was at a loss. However he was too tired to do anything. Or maybe his feeling for his grandmother wasn't that deep at all.

He washed up and ate dinner.

On the mourning house they have moved the body outdoor. Blocked the open sky with tarpol. Villagers were singing religious songs and we're keeping a watch on the body.

My mother asked my uncle to go see his grandmother now. However my uncle refused. He wanted to go tomorrow morning. In our village at that time customs were very important. It is still now but not as strict as it was before.

The customs that my uncle has to follow is that because he is a grandson he has to say the goodbye to his ancestor. It's the same with me. Normally when someone senior dies his grandsons either carries the coffin or the incense or the rice or the umbrella. Everything symbolizes them showing respect to the deceased.

The other thing is that if they are present they have to stay the night along with other family members to watch the body during the night.

However my uncle was tired and didn't want to spend the night watching the corpse. So he prepared his bed ready to sleep.

At that moment we heard a sound of someone walking in the yard. I come to the window looked outside trough the gaps. What I saw sent shivers through my spine. There she was in the moonlight wearing white My great grandmother. 

At this point my brother my uncle and my mother everyone was watching outside from the gapes on the windows and doors. 

She didn't say anything. Just came walking. Stood next to my uncle's vehicle. She lifted the vehicle from the ground and smashed it back with a loud bang. 

That was was vehicle of at least few hundreds of kilograms. She then started shaking the vehicle frome side to side. Like a kid riding a toy car. 

My uncle couldn't take it anymore and pushed the door to step out.

When I looked back at the vehicle. It was fine like nothing happened at all. There was no sign of my great grandmother. 

Like what we witnessed is a illusion. If I was the only one I would have thaught I was dreaming in my sleep.

However it was real. It was a call. It was a call to my uncle to fulfill his duty as the junior to give his respect to the senior.

So my uncle went to watch over his grandmother. And stayed the night.

The next day my great grandmother was cremated and we never saw her again coming to demand respect.

However, if someone now say that they don't believe in ghost or sprits. It just means you haven't seen one yet or have seen and didn't realized it. Because they are real .