How many of us have met Hans Christian Anderson, who wrote spellbinding fairy tales? Or the young shepherd David, the underdog warrior who slayed Goliath? Or Samson who killed an entire army with a jaw bone of a donkey?
Not many, I would suppose. But I, I thought I had met all of these people rolled into one (actually two, as both these men I’m going to write about, were awesome). You know, I’m talking about my grandfathers (Both my mom’s dad and my dad’s dad). Most of what I know today, about how to live life, and how to stand up for myself, was taught to me by them. As a child, I firmly believed that there was nothing my grandfathers could not do.
In many ways, I had a near perfect childhood. Loving parents and Awesome grandparents. While the finances were a bit of a strain, who needs ‘em dollars and rupees, when you could have learn about Constantinople and Winston Churchill, or go for an evening stroll with ‘Kadalai Mittai’ listening to stories of the old? Who needs a PS3, when you can get a wooden catapult custom made for the grip and hands of an 8 year old? Who needs Bach and Beethoven when you have your grandfather to teach you how to play A Minor chords on his German made mouth organ? Who needs to watch RajniKanth beat up the heroine’s dad and shoot three people with one bullet when your grandpa can shoot 10 25 paisa coins, set up on top of match boxes 5 meters away on a wall?
As we grow up and realize that our grandparents are in fact men, who can’t lift mountains like Hanuman and part the Red Sea like Moses did, and even if you took them to Marina beach, they can’t drink an entire ocean by themselves, the novelty does fade a little, but your fascination and respect of your loved ones never does.
They both possessed an uncanny ability to surprise you when you least expected.Most of them have been good surprises, like how I got my first tricycle repaired on my 15th birthday, and the beautiful Wren and Martin Grammar book when my granddad knew that I was struggling with English grammar. Above all, it’s their love towards you that turned your head most.
In this cynical world, at their last years after long struggles with finances, and the burden of being a family leader, you expect them to be cynical and filled with longing for things they cherished, but never enjoyed. Yet, you could always find them when you need, with advise and time.
In fairness, it was never a rosy joyride. There has been scoldings, harsh lessons that needed to be taught, disappointments on summer vacations and tears. But it was always worth the love and fun. It’s worth the evenings together when your grandfather taught you to sing ‘Abide with me’ without accompaniment.
Every journey has it’s end. Every good thing must come to an end etc etc, and one day you know your grandparents will move on. We grow up and learn about death and how it’s ‘good’ for them to move on, as their last days are only filled with sufferings and pain from old age. But you are never prepared for it, in reality.
In 2003, January 24 my grandfather (Mom’s Dad) passed away. I spent the last weeks with him, taking care of him as much as I can. After crying silly, I was repeatedly told that ‘Time is the Healer’, and put your faith in God to ease your pain. I don’t cry as much nowadays, I don’t cry once in a day or a fortnight, but I could never go to a burial or a funeral without shedding a tear for him. Time hasn’t healed me completely.
While contemplating all this, completely unprepared for the next event, On February 2nd, 2012, my other granddad passed away, and I couldn’t even make it to his funeral. I was working in New Jersey and due to visa complications, I couldn’t return in time. I could only come back after a week had passed and I couldn’t even see his face for the last time. For all the things he had sacrificed for me, for all the joy and love he had given me, I didn’t make it back in time.
It’s soon going to be an year since my Granddad passed away, and I haven’t gotten over the first one’s death nearly ten years earlier. There are days when I think that I had actually met Hans Christian Anderson, Samson and King David in my lifetime. For all that they have taught and given me, I will try to live the life that they did, proud and to the fullest.
But I will continue to miss them, as I sing ‘Abide with me’ in memory of my grandfathers this January and February. This is all but an imperfect Ode to two of the greatest men I’ve had the chance to meet. I only wish that all of you could have met them.
Tears.
