I wake up in the morning and find the old man sitting on a rocking chair, his veshti knotted up half way, and reading The Hindu. Next to him on the wooden stool, is a steaming hot davara-tumbler of filter coffee, which he sips on occasionally, but will be perfectly timed to when the last page of the newspaper is done. Playing in the background is but of course, MS amma's Suprabatham.
I walk into the hall.
"Good morning thatha!"
"Good morning kanna. Go drink complan, and get the sruthi box."
I dutifully do as ordered, and sit down to sing a varnam and two songs. He nods, he hums along, he appreciates, he corrects, and he adores. Post which, I run to take a bath and get ready for school.
Once ready, I run into the garage and find his well polished, shiny scooter, all set for a spin.
"THATHA THATHAAAAA WHERE ARE YOU?"
"Varen di, varen" (I'm coming)
He sits on the scooter, and lets me stand in the front. The wind tossing around my two pigtails fastened with black ribbons.
"Shaadu, do you know why penguins walk the way they do?"
"No thatha, I don't."
"Idiot, this is why I tell you to sit with me and watch The Discovery channel. Anyway, I'll tell you why."
And so the conversation carries on.
He drops me right outside the school gate, and tells me he'll see me at 3 in the afternoon again.
<School>
Walk out at 3, and find thatha on the scooter, balancing it on his legs, one hand on his cheek, watching people pass by impatiently. I run to him, and jump into the scooter, back to standing in front.
"Thatha, inniki History teacher enna solikudutha theriyumma?"
"Ennaku epdi theriyum? Nee sonna daane di theriyum."
"Ok. Kelungo."
We ride through the streets of T.Nagar to reach home. On way, we see a very special man.
"Thathaaaa stoppppppp. ICE CREAM ANNA!!"
Thatha stops, and buys me my all time favourite 1-2-3 ice cream. He then also buys himself a raspberry delight, once in a while. And when he does, there's always his trademark dialogue - "Paati kita solladhe di."
We go back home, freshen up, eat some tiffin, and head out again. Either for dance/swimming/instrument class. Drop and pick up by thatha beloved.
Back home for homework and studying, after which we all sit down to eat. No surprises there, that I settle myself right next to thatha, though he always puts surplus amounts of vegetables on my plate.
"Good night thatha."
"Good night shaadu."
Next morning, we're back on track with the good ol' routine.
------------------------------------------------
If my grandfather had been alive to have brightened my childhood further, this would have been an ideal day for me. For most of you, this is something so ordinary, so normal. For me, it's something I've never had. If my dad is my hero, my grandfather's my superhero.
Every waking and sleeping moment, I miss someone I've never met, never seen, never touched. I crave for his company, his love, his presence. I wish he'd seen me, and spent time with me. I'd have been a different person today.
My grandpaa.
I walk into the hall.
"Good morning thatha!"
"Good morning kanna. Go drink complan, and get the sruthi box."
I dutifully do as ordered, and sit down to sing a varnam and two songs. He nods, he hums along, he appreciates, he corrects, and he adores. Post which, I run to take a bath and get ready for school.
Once ready, I run into the garage and find his well polished, shiny scooter, all set for a spin.
"THATHA THATHAAAAA WHERE ARE YOU?"
"Varen di, varen" (I'm coming)
He sits on the scooter, and lets me stand in the front. The wind tossing around my two pigtails fastened with black ribbons.
"Shaadu, do you know why penguins walk the way they do?"
"No thatha, I don't."
"Idiot, this is why I tell you to sit with me and watch The Discovery channel. Anyway, I'll tell you why."
And so the conversation carries on.
He drops me right outside the school gate, and tells me he'll see me at 3 in the afternoon again.
<School>
Walk out at 3, and find thatha on the scooter, balancing it on his legs, one hand on his cheek, watching people pass by impatiently. I run to him, and jump into the scooter, back to standing in front.
"Thatha, inniki History teacher enna solikudutha theriyumma?"
"Ennaku epdi theriyum? Nee sonna daane di theriyum."
"Ok. Kelungo."
We ride through the streets of T.Nagar to reach home. On way, we see a very special man.
"Thathaaaa stoppppppp. ICE CREAM ANNA!!"
Thatha stops, and buys me my all time favourite 1-2-3 ice cream. He then also buys himself a raspberry delight, once in a while. And when he does, there's always his trademark dialogue - "Paati kita solladhe di."
We go back home, freshen up, eat some tiffin, and head out again. Either for dance/swimming/instrument class. Drop and pick up by thatha beloved.
Back home for homework and studying, after which we all sit down to eat. No surprises there, that I settle myself right next to thatha, though he always puts surplus amounts of vegetables on my plate.
"Good night thatha."
"Good night shaadu."
Next morning, we're back on track with the good ol' routine.
------------------------------------------------
If my grandfather had been alive to have brightened my childhood further, this would have been an ideal day for me. For most of you, this is something so ordinary, so normal. For me, it's something I've never had. If my dad is my hero, my grandfather's my superhero.
Every waking and sleeping moment, I miss someone I've never met, never seen, never touched. I crave for his company, his love, his presence. I wish he'd seen me, and spent time with me. I'd have been a different person today.
My grandpaa.
