This is just a part of a piece I want to write in memory of my grandpa. I would love to get as many reviews as possible.
MY GRANDFATHER
I admit my grandfather was not an extraordinary persona in the light of the world but for me he was an unfading light of unfathomable love. His journey is not that of worth noting in history but he will always remain a beautiful chapter of my life.
I lost my grandfather just a week before my 12th board exams and this loss was indeed a great one for me. Not only had I lost a loved one, but with him went my childhood memories, perhaps, the days that I spent with him were the most cherished of all.
In our earlier home, I still recollect we had an Indian style ‘gadda’(a huge bed) that was used by ‘dada’ (as his children and so we grandchildren addressed him). He would lie on it and read the newspaper. I remember the nights when I would snuggle up close to him and he would narrate fascinating stories…stories of kings and queens, stories of the great Shivaji, stories of morals and those of wisdom. I listened to them – mesmerized. Being the youngest of his grandchildren I always had this special place near him. I remember my elder sister literally trying hard to be the first one to get all the attention, but I guess, sometimes younger kids do have the priority. Love truly binds! He had told me many interesting stories then…especially those of ghosts that he had encountered. He would often say that he would end up getting fever whenever he had seen ghosts. A cold fear would run down my spine, more with concern for his health, than for the fear of ghosts!
The other unforgettable thing about him was that his visits were accompanied with gifts. No, not any of those luxurious ones but those which symbolized his love. He would unfailingly get me ‘Peppy’(packed chips) at those times. He always bought two of them hoping that I would share it with my sis. I remember that I would literally dig into his old, white cloth bag for those precious packets brought with so much care and love. It didn’t take a minute to get it from the local shop. You could even get it from a local paanwala(a small roadside shop)…but those packets were indeed priceless…I never realized when I stopped longing for ‘Peppy.’ That stupid habit of waiting for it faded away but they always came along with dada. After ‘Peppy’ stopped coming into the market he began getting ‘Kurkure.’ (another kind of chips)
He stayed with us for a few days and with my uncle for a few days, after the old house in which we lived as a joint family, before my birth, was being reconstructed. I remember that house quite well. Often my sister and I would spend some days there. It was an old building. A narrow staircase led to the house. A big hall where dada had an office table led to a room which had a television. A neighboring room was the bedroom and adjacent to it was a dining hall and then a kitchen. Whew! That was a part of the house. But then there were almost a dozen of people living there before.
My grandmother always cooked before she contracted arthritis. She had this nice knack of making pickles and the traditional ‘chiwda.’(a kind of snack). I remember my sis and I would get tired running from room to room and then have a sumptuous, simple meal and settle down for a nice story. A torn mosquito net with a neat bed seemed welcoming to us then. We have a big room for us today which is always in a mess and seems small to us but then we enjoyed sleeping on that wobbly bed. The four of us. Just the four of us. Those were the days!!!
