I used to peep through his spectacles from behind when he read newspapers - Just to know how those letters appeared to him. I remember I was in 6th std. those days. He used to teach me Hindi : to be frank that was not the only thing that I learned from him. I always wondered watching him love silence and calmness. At home only I was allowed to enter him room - books, glass framed photos and other valuable certificates kept everyone else away from his room. Many times I have over utilized that freedom which always ended up in a broken frame. But I never got angry on him in between my tears and cries - when he scolds for that.
I saw him for the first time when i was 10. Like any one else would, the first thing I noticed about him was his white khadi dress. Did I miss that gold plated old Parker ink pen? I always dreamed of writing with that. The so called “generation gap” never allowed me to become like him. But today I realize that the time spent with him did influence me a lot. I liked that grey colored shawl the most, printed as “Dakshin Bharat Hindi Prachar Sabha 1992" which was awarded to him - among those huge bundle of shawls in his cupboard. I loved wearing it and doing that award receiving act, in front of that big mirror in his room. Each time I managed to keep it back rushing - hearing his foot steps. I still remember what he told while gifting me that pen on the day I left to Hyderabad for my first job. “What ever field you choose, become the best in that. And be proud to say that you are nothing in other subjects. There are many things valuable than money. Don’t miss your other gifted skills. When you become old like me, those would be only companion to escape from this slowly moving time. All are not lucky like me, to have you in these old days.” He smiled when he said that last sentence. But I could see tears in his eyes through the corners of his spectacle.
I saw him for the first time when i was 10. Like any one else would, the first thing I noticed about him was his white khadi dress. Did I miss that gold plated old Parker ink pen? I always dreamed of writing with that. The so called “generation gap” never allowed me to become like him. But today I realize that the time spent with him did influence me a lot. I liked that grey colored shawl the most, printed as “Dakshin Bharat Hindi Prachar Sabha 1992" which was awarded to him - among those huge bundle of shawls in his cupboard. I loved wearing it and doing that award receiving act, in front of that big mirror in his room. Each time I managed to keep it back rushing - hearing his foot steps. I still remember what he told while gifting me that pen on the day I left to Hyderabad for my first job. “What ever field you choose, become the best in that. And be proud to say that you are nothing in other subjects. There are many things valuable than money. Don’t miss your other gifted skills. When you become old like me, those would be only companion to escape from this slowly moving time. All are not lucky like me, to have you in these old days.” He smiled when he said that last sentence. But I could see tears in his eyes through the corners of his spectacle.
These days, he refuses to recognize me. He refuses to talk to me on phone when I call. He no more remembers my face. My grandpa turns 88 today.
Comments
when i was reading this,i remember my childhood days.
waiting for next one...