Grandpa2 mins 146 2 mins 146
Today I got transported to my school days - there was no real trigger but still it just felt nice to reminisce those golden days.
During my primary school days, my loving maternal grandfather would pick me up from school and we would walk back home. It was our grandpa-granddaughter time. Even on days he was tired he would insist that he pick me up and never let other family members do it.
Every single day we did a mandatory stopover to drink sugarcane juice. As we both enjoyed our tasty juice, we talked to the friendly vendor about each other's day and family; importance of sugarcane juice for health and our very own Bengaluru. Sometimes, my grandpa and the uncle would sing old kannada songs. They were both always eager to hear my recitation of entire day's events in my animated and vibrant style. Sugarcane juice ritual has indeed contributed to my life's priceless memories.
Eight years ago when my grandpa passed away he left a vacuum in all our lives - family and friends. It left me in a state of deep grief and profound pain for a long time. Even today and I know forever, drinking sugarcane juice, eating mangoes and enjoying extra share of dry Jamoons; playing games on the terrace in the summers; having family get togethers - none of it will be the same. As a thirty two year old I craved for my grandpa's attention and presence like I did when I was a little girl.
During the lockdown I thought about grandpa many times. I realized very many facts.
Grandpa had departed to a different world altogether but only physically. However, in my acts of courage and kindness, in my endeavors to have fun and indulge in adventure, in my happiest moments and my lowest points of life, in all the most ordinary everyday moments- he was very much present.
Every time my family and I remember him, recall his words and actions, pray to him with love and gratitude - we all know he is watching us. In fact in all our decisions and occasions we have my Grandpa 's strong influence in how we act and proceed. Indeed it is as of he is handholding us. How can he be gone? He is with me. He is wigh us.
This realization helped me transition from pain and resentment to a better comprehension of death, loved ones and love itself.
As I am writing this, I fondly remember my granddad and I know he is reading this precious piece of story too. I have tears in my eyes and smiles in my heart.