Letter from my Grandpa

Usually after the history class I get lost in world of thoughts. Today it made me think that History has taught us many things, but never have we used it for the betterment of our future. People have used the lessons from history to trigger more evil rather than avoiding the same mistakes. History was just an additional subject in my course. People would go through text book day before and were happy as far as they pass in that, even I was one of them, till the essence of the subject conquered my interests and thoughts and history became one of my favorite subjects to study.

My cell phone brought me back from the world of imagination. It was regarding the interview I attended last week. “Hello Ms. Mythri, this is Rajan here from placements department, Please come and collect your offer letter.”

-“Yes Sir” I replied and hung up. After coming out of the career  department, the next person I wanted to meet was my Grandfather, but before that I read the offer letter again and noticed tears rolling down from my eyes, I looked at the sky and said “Mom and Dad! I have done it! your daughter has started a new chapter of her life!”. For a moment I wished they were alive so that they could have seen me starting my new job and new life.

I reached the metro station and prayed for time to increase its speed to help me catch the train so that I could share the news with the person whom I love the most. Finally I arrived at my place, didnt care where i left my slippers and bag. I moved inside searching for my grandpa, found him in the balcony watering the plants. I went and hugged him. He looked into my eyes and i could the smile in him, he wiped off the tears from my cheeks. Later he took the letter from my hand and checked it.

“I pray god let this happiness stay with you forever my dear, now tell me how shall we celebrate this special occasion”.

-“Let’s go on a vacation!!”

“Yes, but only after your exams. Agreed?

“Agreed, Major Vikram Singh”. I said and both shared a healthy laugh.

Days passed by and I completed my exams. As promised, Grandpa planned the spots for vacation. The plan was to go to Manali in Himachal Pradesh, then to Amritsar in Punjab and back to our home in Delhi.

We left to Manali. The journey was quite tiring. When we reached, it was late and dark, so we decided to sleep and take rest.

The next morning, I opened my eyes after a good night’s sleep. Happiness is when you see Snow Mountains through your window as soon as you wake up. The embrace of the cold air by standing in the balcony just made my morning better than ever. I looked around and grandpa wasn’t there. Then, I saw a note kept by him on the table.

Grandpa spoke less and preferred to communicate through notes. He believed that written communication makes you think more before you say a word and proves more effective than the verbal communication.

But this note said only few words, “Good morning Mythri, hope you had good sleep. I will be in the coffee shop opposite to this Hotel; you freshen up and come there. We will go for a local tour.”

After a long walk in town and visiting places like Vyas Ashram (also known as Byas ashram) and filling our eyes and minds with the treasure of nature in Rohtak pass.We continued our journey towards Amritsar.

There was a total change in climate compared to Manali, it was as if the sun has come out of his hideout and was showing what he can do. This place was of high importance to grandpa. Our plan was to visit the golden temple and then see the Retreat Parade in Wagha Border. He had been there many times and knew the people of Border Security force. Border Security Force is a wing of the army which protected the border and performed the retreat parade every evening.

Next morning, we visited the Golden temple in Amritsar. A place which was filled with devotion and peace without any strong security though situated in the border of a country with which we hardly shared a healthy relationship.

The plan for the evening was to see the Retreat parade in wagha border but before that, Grandpa stopped near the Attari railway station.He took me inside and it was like an abandoned station, any railway employee would wish to be posted to this station as the station master. As I was checking out the station, I saw a board which stated “Indian Custom welcomes you.” I looked at my grandfather and before I could ask him anything, Grandpa foresaw my questions and started explaining,  “This place has a history my dear. This is the last railway station in western India. Earlier there was a train from New Delhi in India to Lahore in Pakistan which used to take this route. The train’s name was Samjhautha express which is not operating at present. We are just 18-20 miles away from Lahore.”.

I was really excited to see the retreat parade. We got Passes to sit in VIP rows to watch the parade. Thanks to grandpa and his contacts with BSF. The Retreat parade starts with pride and ends with pride where both the countries start the parade, raise their legs till their head. I loved the parade. While we returned back to our room, I couldn’t sleep the whole night thinking about how the country broke land and people who were so attached to each other on the basis of religion and the killing of Hindus and Sikhs during the partition made me hate Pakistan even more. I looked at my grandfather, who was sleeping peacefully and felt proud about his service in the Indian Army.

Again I was lost in my world picturing how people ran away from the mob to save their lives. I saw grandpa waking up, it was already 4.30 am and the day had begun for grandpa. I pretended I was asleep and grandpa got freshen up and started writing a letter, I was wondering to whom he was writing a letter as we communicated with all our relatives through phone and internet. He finished writing his letter and walked out of the room. With a little resistance towards curiosity I started following him. He started towards the Bus Terminus nearby and I saw him conversing with the driver. My whole body shook for a moment after I saw the board “Amritsar – Wagha – Lahore – Amritsar.”

My curiosity went beyond the sky. Millions of questions started rose in my head. Why grandpa was sending letters to Pakistan? Why was he visiting Amritsar often? Why such a secret level of communication which leaves no trail behind? I hid behind a tree as my grandfather moved out of the bus stand. I was carefully observing the bus, as soon as the driver got down from bus, I went inside and searched for that letter, after few minutes I was successful in finding the letter and then got out of the bus. I was curious to read what was inside that letter. I went to a tea shop near the bus terminus and started to read the letter.

“Dear Asma,

Greetings from your husband.

Hope this letter finds you well my dear. I bring good news in this letter. Mythri has finished her college and started with the next step of her life. I have always supported her just like how I have supported you and my son. It still feels like yesterday when I brought you home and told my decision of starting my life with you and as always father didn’t say no because he always knew I would go for the best. It was the first time our neighbourhood in Lahore witnessed the first Hindu family welcoming a Daughter in law from a Muslim family. I couldn’t have been happier that day as the wedding was approved by both the families and happened without any fights.

I still remember the day we welcomed our first granddaughter. The baby was loved by everyone in the whole family. Our family was full and we had nothing except love to share between all of us.

The same day where we celebrated independence our leaders drew border lines and our mother was divided between Hindus and Muslims. The land, where both lived and shared love, where both fought for its freedom was divided and called separate entities. Little that they knew, only we could divide but not our mother.

Our heaven became hell, the day where our leaders manipulated and brainwashed our people and created a mob. Things turned worse when I saw your brothers joined the mob and killed our son and daughter in law. It feels like yesterday you kept Mythri in my hands and made me promise I would not bring her back to this place as your brothers had sworn to kill her.

I’m sorry I made you remember the past, but you need not worry now as your granddaughter has started a new life. She’ll be always loved and I will be sending you her photos next time in my letters.
Take care.

Your loving husband

Vikram”

I closed my eyes for a minute and wiped off my tears after opening them. For a moment I felt both happy and sad. I was happy that my grandmother was alive, I felt sad because I couldn’t see her. I went back to the bus stand and started a friendly conversation with the bus driver and managed to keep the letter in its original place. No word in English vocabulary could explain the happiness which I felt that day. I knew about Grandmother’s love only by reading books and from the stories which my friends used to tell me. Now I had a chance to experience it. I had to figure out a way how.

While I was on my way back to the room I thought about the mistakes our ancestors committed to gain power to rule. People who fought together to gain freedom from the foreigners are still fighting over Kashmir. I still feel bad that even after wars and opening the gates of friendship, still the situation has not been healthy.

I came back to room and saw grandfather’s face. He was really happy to see me. I went and hugged him. I don’t know how, but he got to know how I felt. Though I had washed my face and it didn’t look like I had cried, he looked into my eyes and asked “What happened dear? What I can I do to make you feel better?”

I looked back at him and said “Next time when you write a letter, please ask Asma to send a picture of hers too. I would love to look at my grandmother.”

Grandpa stood there shocked. He went and sat near the desk. He didn’t utter a single word till we returned back.

I did not discuss about grandmother after we came back. One Morning I was sitting and reading the newspaper he came near my side and said “write a letter to your Grandmother, give her my love” and together our morning begins.