The King is dead, Long live the King

The king is dead, Long live the King

Tragedy

I've always wondered about that sentence. Is that a pun? Is that an oxymoron? A cruel work of fate? Or is it just the handiwork of a wordsmith? What is it really that makes it an unique sentence?

A nation can't be without a king. As soon as the subjects receive the news, they mourn 'The king is dead', but they understand there's someone already as a King, either a son/daughter or a grandchild, or at least someone anointed already. A good King understands this and he puts a plan in place and the future King is known. Well, it's virtually impossible for someone to be prepared at all times, but nations did take the trouble to have this sorted out. 

The king is dead, yet Long live the king. A person may die, but the title doesn't. Someone else just steps into his shoes and becomes the King. But what about grandfathers?

My only surviving grandfather passed away this February. 

Great Men in the History of Mankind

We all have our role models and heroes. We have all learned History and how Winston Churchill, Albert Einstein et al. are the greatest men in History. Well, I've never met them, but I've read about them. Yet, two of the greatest men that I had known and had the pleasure to grow up with, were my grandfathers. One passed away in 2003 and the other, this February. 

I was fortunate to have such loving grandparents and each one's death is still a great pain for me to live with. I still haven't come to terms with the loss of any of them. I've tried and I tried, but I just don't think about their death anymore, just concentrating on the good and bad times we had together. At least, there was some consolation that I was able to spend a good amount of time with my grandmother (my father's mom) and my grandfather (my mother's dad), which always stood in good stead. 

But the one this passed away this February was special. I have lived with him all my life, expect for the first few months of my life and the time I've spent in the United States. I was under his care in all my childhood. He used to take me to my school and he taught me how to ride a bicycle and a bike. Most of the things I knew, were from my grandfathers. I have always been inspired by the both of them. 

He had even made a cameo role in this blog, fixing up my tri-cycle when I was a kid. Throughout my life, I have heard many tales about grandfather going out of his way to help others, and the church. I've heard many people say he's stubborn to a fault. I knew how he was respected, sometimes chided upon by his own relatives for always putting the well being of the community instead of his family. There are just so many stories to say about him that it would take me weeks and weeks to write about him. But maybe, I'd just concentrate on the one thing that come to my mind

Anonymous

My grandfather was a retired government employee, and he had very deep connections with the one of the most prominent Churches of Tamil Nadu. Somewhere along the line, he had begun saving his pension funds whenever he can so that he can leave behind a legacy to the church. As usual, we had no idea he was doing this. 

He had a target in mind, and when he had saved enough, he arranged for the money to be donated to the churches. To respect his wishes, I'm not going to disclose the amount, or the names of the church/churches, but all I can say is, it's a substantial amount today. When he had arranged for the money to be given, he conveyed his next wish, that he prefers the church not to disclose his name, and that he wishes his contribution to be anonymous. 

It was a simple wish, but it showed the ethos of the man. He always did things according to his wish without wondering about others' perception. It was one quality that I had admired the most in him. 

Compromises and Heartbreaks

Like I said before, his death has been particularly painful for me, as I never go to see him neither on his deathbed, nor his burial. I had returned to New Jersey in July after spending 2 months in India for my marriage and I did not have any leave for going back to India. The last I spoke to him, I told him that he should keep well and come back in April to see him. 

He sounded cheerful and never did I think that would be the last I would speak to him. His condition deteriorated rapidly and he passed away in February. With visa complications, I couldn't go back in time, either to see his final moments or for the funeral. The earliest I could make it back to India was a week later and I could only attend the prayer meeting held in his remembrance. 


All of this made me rethink my stay in US. At what cost am I staying in US? Not able to properly say goodbye to the one man who cared more about me than anyone else was too steep a price to pay. I'm a jovial guy, always with some amount of positive energy at least. All my friends and colleagues would readily agree. I'm always cracking jokes (silly, unfunny ones) and I don't complain too much about life. I put up with it and say to myself 'Chin up'. But this entire fiasco of my grandfather's death has forced me to put my life on review. 


I'm going back to the drawing board to revisit my priorities. As I said before, I had not fully gotten over my grandparents death. Whatever condolences I receive, it's not worth the time and love they had given me. Although I can't piss away my life being gloomy and crying over my grandparents (believe me, they'll be the first to chide me if I did that), I'm going to engage myself in a couple of long overdue activities about my family roots, which naturally is the subject of my next blog.

Hema Malini and Rev. Boucher

As hard as it is to believe, I share some very interesting ties with Hema Malini (Yes, the real Hema Malini) and Rev. Boucher from Germany (No, you don't know him)

As a distraction to my grief, I'll be taking up this personal project of getting in touch with both of these fine people if possible. As a family, we've lost touch with some of our roots and I'll try to work on something interesting. Hema Malini, more of a celebrity, shares a not-so-important connection, while Rev. Boucher from Germany had far more reaching and important impact in our lives.  

In my next blog, I'll write about Hema Malini as well as Rev. Boucher's good heart. 

Stanley. 

P.S Look me up grandfather, from wherever you are. I miss you and you know that I love you :)