A Story with a Mysterious Twist
He stood outside the school gate.
Every morning.
With a small cloth bag.
And tired eyes.
Children walked past him.
Teachers walked past him.
But the old man stayed.
No one knew his name.
No one knew why
he came there daily.
He never entered the school.
He only stood near the gate.
And looked inside.
Day after day.
Week after week.
Month after month.
The children started noticing him.
“Why does that uncle come here?”
they asked.
Some laughed.
Some felt scared.
One little girl named Anaya
felt curious.
She was ten years old.
One morning,
she walked up to him.
“Uncle,” she asked softly,
“why do you come here every day?”
The old man smiled gently.
And said,
“I am waiting for someone.”
“Who?” Anaya asked.
“My granddaughter,”
he replied.
“She studies here.”
Anaya looked inside the school.
She checked the notice board.
She checked the class lists.
There was no girl
with his granddaughter’s name.
The next day,
Anaya brought him water.
The old man thanked her.
He sat on the bench.
And opened his cloth bag.
Inside was a small tiffin.
And a tiny pink ribbon.
“That ribbon belonged to her,”
he said softly.
“She loved wearing it to school.”
Anaya felt something heavy
in her chest.
One day,
Anaya asked a teacher,
“Ma’am,
does any girl named Riya study here?”
The teacher’s face changed.
She went silent.
Then she said quietly,
“Riya died two years ago.”
“She was hit by a bus
on her way to school.”
Anaya felt tears
fill her eyes.
She ran to the gate.
The old man was standing there.
As always.
“Uncle…”
she whispered.
“Riya is… not here anymore.”
The old man nodded.
“I know,” he said.
“She died two years ago.”
Anaya was shocked.
“Then why do you still come here?”
The old man looked at the school gate.
And said softly,
“Because this was the last place
she was happy.”
“I promised her
I would drop her to school every day.”
“I couldn’t save her.”
“So now…
I come alone.”
Anaya held his hand.
And cried.
The next day…
All the children stood near the gate.
They waited for the old man.
When he came,
They said together,
“Good morning, Grandpa.”
From that day on…
He was never alone again.
🌟 MORAL
Love never dies.
And some promises
are kept forever.
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