Relations!

Relations….. they are very special. Never know their value as long as they are a part of our lives… within our reach. Once they perish, u wish u had more of it. Strange!!! One such relation I forgot to treasure & now I do with all my heart and soul is one I shared with a man who took the lives long drive two generations ahead of me-my grandfather. I don’t know why he didn’t mean so much to me then- perhaps he was too strict, to the extent that I was awarded the most “calm & quiet” student in my kindergarten days . He was strict to the extent that my cousins never wanted to spend their vacation at our place. He was full of restrictions – don’t run, you might fall n get hurt, don’t shout, don’t make noise, don’t go beyond an earshot’s distance. He takes our name once twice n then there should be no thrice- we should be in front of him. God, I was so scared of him... not just me, so were the entire family & esp the kids.

I was in my 9^th std; it was the 7^th of Jan 1999. I was back home from school & as was the custom I kissed my grandpa on his forehead. I felt an unusual chilliness about him- he was unusually cold. I asked my mom why and she said she had wiped his face with a wet clothe. Moreover he was ill and we were expecting our family doctor. As he came my grandpa kept shouting orders –“open the door, get him tea, etc and he wanted all of us to be around him. As we stood there the doc checked his pulse and & sat with his prescription pad, reluctant to write anything. Perhaps, he knew… grandpa looked around, at all of us & asked the doc- “shall I lie down?” & yes he did. He took three deep breaths & that was it. A man who was shouting orders just few minutes back was no more… it took some time for us to realize what went wrong- it was hard to digest, the fact that he just died in front of our eyes .

As the saying goes- u never know the value of a thing till it’s lost. Here, it was him. Right from my childhood, a person whose silhouette eclipsed my freedom- for anything & everything-his permission was a prerequisite. Getting admission @ school, assigning me tuition teachers, dance classes, music lessions, progress reports, scheduling my “TV-Watching” hours-everything was monitored by him. I needed no alarm as it was he who used to wake me up-“study, its exam time”. He determined when should I wake up, how should I eat, whom should I play with. Talk about playing – he never let me go to my neighbors place to play n so I happened to have all elderly friends- our dhobi, our helpers in the kitchen. If at all I did any mischief (I don remember I did any) they would call him “acho…. Dende devikkunju adukkalel….” that was it… he would take my name with all his might n I would go in front him, shuddering as I know what would come next- thrashings!!! He would spank me with a cane carefully designed out of the stem of coffee plant (I used to hate that plant for that very reason). Kitchen was no place for kids n entering that prohibited area was a serious breach of law. He would be the happiest if I would sit near him and talk all day. He just loves to talk- about his school days, his childhood, the days he went hunting in the deep forest and the animals he encountered there. I don’t think any other grandchild know about his elder brother who died; after he fell from a speeding horse. I heard from my mom that I was the only grandchild who got a chance to sleep on his bed. He never let any…

The first person at home to have a look at my text books at the beginning of every academic year would be him. My progress cards were strictly scanned by him & to his utter dismay he realized that I was weak @ math. There started his hunting for a tuition teacher for improving my math skills. He would call me every now & then n ask, “What were u doing?” to which my answer would be “studying” and then he would reply “I was just checking”. My outburst of fury would make me close the door with a loud bang & then he would call me again & come close to me, look deep into my eyes and ask- “do u know who am i. I’m your father’s father.” Anger in me evaporates and there enters peril… :)

One person who knew the art of tackling him was my sis. She knew how to escape his ferocious stares and his caning (that was exclusively for me n one of my cousin brothers).

I missed him when all good things happened in my life- my class 10 results, me becoming an engineer & me being he first of his grand daughters to have started working. I knew he would have been happy n proud.

If today I hate being late, I hate to make people wait for me, I wake up when I know I need to, I fold the newspaper back to the way it was; many similar things that might look silly- it’s all because of him. If at all I have some discipline left in me that’s because of him. I should be thanking him for all these favors. That’s how he still lives in me- as the rules that he set to make my life a lot better.