I don’t have very clear memories of my grandfather from my childhood days. But, today as I strain my memory and rack my brains a little, I can bring to fore, the memory of a man, who lived by his principles, his values and his ethos, all through his life. A man who constantly fought, literally; till he breathed his last on that fateful morning – February 22, 2010
My earliest childhood memoirs revolve around his beliefs – and superstitions – and his disbeliefs. His belief in God; his superstitions which I always labeled as part of his eccentricity; and his disbelief in most of the new age mumbo-jumbo (Jeans, Cell Phones, et al)
He worked as the manager of a petrol pump in Nagaland (Mokokchung District) for the greater part of his days – completely dedicated to his work, and was the splitting image of honesty and integrity all his life.
I remember with respect, the man who stayed up all night, when we didn’t get enough seats on our Rajdhani train to New Delhi.
I remember with fondness, the man who called dozens of times each day when I was diagnosed with typhoid and jaundice, and was hospitalized for a week.
I remember with love, the man who could never remember my birthdays, but despite his forgetfulness, I knew he was greatly fond of me. I recall how I used to wait for him each year, so he could hold my hand as I cut my birthday cake.
I remember with caring, the man who would scold me for watching TV by sitting so close to the set, for eating too many chocolates, for playing truant. In spite of all the scolding, I knew he did all this because he cared – above all else – for my well-being.
I remember calling him up, excitedly, telling him my examination results, and I remember, the happiness, reverberating in his voice, as he congratulated me. He always encouraged me to strive harder, in spite of all odds. He taught me to move on, even if no one was watching my progress; and so, I remember him with pride.
I also remember tear stricken, as I recall the pain he was in, during his last days, as he fought through illness after illness.
Today, as I reinstate the memories I have shared with him, I remember him with respect, fondness, love, caring, pride and pain. I am sad, for you did not wish to leave us, but I’m glad that the pain has finally left you for good.
Gramps, I will forever regret not having been able to meet you as you breathed your last; as you called out my name, and I didn’t respond. And yet, wherever you are, if you are listening, “I’ll always miss you greatly”.
