For some reason today, I crave for that handwritten letter from you my dear grandfather.
I miss you.
How many hours would you have spent to write those letters, penning the details of every cousin, every incident that mattered to us? So many details are lost these days due to instant messaging. We don’t save anything these days to our memory but to our phones.
You might not know that I’m a doctor now, an Ophthalmologist. I specialized in Glaucoma -the disease you were told you were a suspect of.
You haven’t met my husband. I keep telling him about you and now he knows a lot about you but I’m sad I can’t tell you about him.
Do you know there are cell phones these days that help us see Grandma even though I’m in the US? I’m in the US by the way but no one waits for me with binoculars at the airport when I arrive like how you used to.
I still try to savor the fried garlic in rice the way you liked even though I never understand why you relished it so much.
Grandma wraps her tablets in colored papers just the way you used to. Your wooden wastebasket, a metal chair, and writing pad are still with me. I use them still.
Grandma still stays in your room and whenever I visit I sleep with her there.
The jackfruit tree behind our house is no more there. There are not many crows and worms in the backyard like earlier when you were here.
Nobody uses a radio to listen to music these days like olden times. We listen to music on phone.
I have most of the things I wanted when you were here but I’m not able to be as happy as I used to be when it was difficult to get them. It’s like that for most of us. Don’t know if it’s a good or a bad thing.
Rains are less and not continuous like how it used to be. Or maybe I stay indoors and don’t concentrate much on the duration or heaviness of the showers.
I don’t know what I do but most of the time I don’t listen, see or feel things around me; maybe it’s the internet.
I still collect those clothed sandals I get from expensive hotels because I know you liked them but nobody wants them these days. I gave Grandma the Jergens body cream you liked and she thought about you for a long time and we both spoke about you.
I remember your songs still and I sing those to myself at night and I feel the nights similar to those when you were beside me. I lost the cassette in which I recorded you singing. Now when I’m writing I can faintly hear your song from my imagination but cannot fathom the thought that I can never hear you ever again.
A lot of people who were there when you were here aren’t there here with us anymore; not sure if you got to meet them or not. Don’t know if we all would meet eventually or would disappear without a trace .
When I went to purchase winter clothes I spoke to Hari(my husband) about our watchman Das’ muffler. How much we have made fun of him and laughed. He is no more here with us now.
Last year Mom went to collect a memento in your memory at a local village club. They spoke highly of you. There is also a big picture of you in the temple auditorium. They have put Grandma’s too. She is very happy and tells everyone about it.
I sleep in prayer room sometimes and look at the cupboard where you stored all the Mahabharata cassettes. Nobody knows where all that is now.
Nobody knows where you are now.
Life is moving very fast. For days I don’t think about you. I cannot believe I don’t. I always knew while you were here you would leave; so I made sure you told me lot of stories, sang lot of songs, combed your hair whenever your head itched, held your hands and walked outside for long. I feel like telling you all that’s happening here now and don’t want to forget how you looked, walked or spoke.
If you are in a world where you can listen whenever someone thinks about you, today you would have had good input. I don’t know if you have been waiting long for that. I will give you signals more often from now.
Hope you are happy and is getting good sleep, spicy buttermilk, curd rice and mangoes wherever you are.
I love you, my dear grandpa.