In Memory

Dressed in a white, full-sleeve shirt and a mundu I remember my Chachan (maternal grandfather) as a very God fearing, humble, down-to-earth person. For as long as I can remember his mornings were spent in reciting Gita and other prayers, the only break he took was for a half an hour for breakfast and then he would go back to his prayers until afternoon. After his prayers he would offer everyone in the house some Chandanam or flowers. In those days, I found the whole meditation process needless to say boring … I would much rather sleep in, waking up around 10-11 AM and having a late breakfast that my dear ammamma (grandma) would have made. Sometimes when he would be done with his prayers and bring the chandanam, I would still be in my pajamas and he would give me a knowing, mischievous smile (a smile that I see reflected in Kochunni).

Most summer vacations, I spent my time in Bangalore and it was during late evenings that my grandfather had the time to spend with me. He would tell me stories of Krishna’s exploits or books that he had read like The Three Musketeers or we would point out the stars and the planets on a starry night. He had a wealth of knowledge that he was ready to share, never treating me like a baby but would rather discuss matters.

One summer afternoon I remember our trip to watch the movie Durga. After the movie was over and everyone was discussing its merits, my grandfather mentioned he was disappointed with it and when pressed further he said, "I assumed the movie was about Goddess Durga, and not the standard run-of-the-mill affairs". We must have told the above story umpteenth times to family and friends and had a hearty laugh, but today when that man passed away I regret not realizing his innocence and his unshakable faith of God. I never recall him preaching his faith or his way of life to anyone - not to me or to any of his 5 kids but he seemed to have a firm belief in Lord Guruvayoorappan; so much so that even at age 90 he was ready to make a trip to Kerala for His darshan. He was always ready, willing and able to take on any challenge that life would throw at him.

When I was back in Bombay, he would tell me to write him letters describing in detail my school trips and other mundane activities. He would always respond with warmth and insight in the next correspondence. In a way, he instilled in me a love for writing.

A few years ago, he had been very sick and was at the hospital. I myself being here only had conversations with my mom about his health and battle to survive. At that time the memory of my gradma passing was still quite fresh - I had seen her last at my own wedding and was never able to a say a proper goodbye. I could only pray and hope that he survived, and for some unknown reason I was drawn to a picture of myself, my Ammamma (grandma) and chachan(grandfather) from my younger days. I looked straight at Ammamma and asked her to be patient and somehow make my dear chachan live on, and that I was not ready to let go just yet. And he did live on to see me and later my son and even learn about my second pregnancy.

This lovely, wonderful person passed away last April. I firmly believe that he joined my ammamma (grandma) in Heaven and they are now looking down on us happy and content that they are finally together -- forever. I do regret that he did not get a chance to meet Kunju, but one of the unexplainable little things, Kunju was born exactly 13 days after his passing.

This year as Kunju’s birthday approaches I remember those wonderful evenings of stories, those mornings waking up to a loud, distinct voice reciting the Sanskrit hymns, the wonderful man I knew as my Chachan. Love you, forever!!!!