I love Bollywood songs. They are a source of immense joy and solace for me. I like all kinds of songs - old and new, fast and slow. There's some thing for every mood. The only type that I don't like very much are item numbers - there's some thing deeply disturbing about them! But all other kinds of songs I quite enjoy! Nevertheless, there are some songs which are so well written that the lyrics make more value and sense than the song in itself.
One such song that I often think has a lot of real life reference is this one from the film Dhadkan:
Aksar is duniya mein,
Anjaane milte hai,
Anjaani raahon mein,
Milke kho jaate hai,
Lekin hamesha woh yaad aate hai.
This has happened to me SO many times. While on a holiday, or on a train commute to work, a random evening at restaurant, or at a grocery store and at numerous such unexpected venues. I have met people who have spent very limited time being acquainted, yet have left a deep mark on my mind and memory. And most often, in hindsight, I realize, they teach me some thing. These lessons, however big or small or right or wrong, have influenced the way I live my life. They have helped me correct my mistakes, change bad habits and adopt good ones and hopefully, have made me a better person than I was before I met those people.
And that's why I want to write about one very special person who was a part of my life for strictly 4 meetings, yet taught me some thing invaluable.
Last year in January, one afternoon, I was returning home from the market. I saw an old man trying to cross the road. But the junction at which we were, it was difficult even for the most agile and quick to cross easily, let alone this old man! A few young boys held his hand and helped him onto the other side (Thank God some sense still prevails in the youth). The old man thanked the youngsters profusely, they smiled and waved and left. However, the old man's ordeals weren't over. He now found it difficult to get onto the footpath from the road without support. Motivated by the youngsters, I offered to help him. He held both my wrists and somehow managed to hop onto the footpath. He wore a Poonal (The thread tied around through one shoulder) and Veshti (Dhoti) and had a big Rudraksh Mala around his neck. One look at him and you'd know he was a Pakka Tam-Brahm (For the uninitiated - Tamil Brahmin). He was about 90 years old, very thin and fragile but had extremely bright eyes... I felt they were actually shining!
He instantly reminded me of my Grandpa. All those who know me, know just how special my Grandpa was for me. Hence, I automatically became fond of this old man. Here on, I am just going to call him Grandpa2 :-). I asked him in Tamil if he needed to be dropped home - he didn't want to disturb or inconvenience me, so he refused. But I insisted any way and walked with him till his home. All the while, he held my wrist tightly ... So tight that I was sure a vein or two are just going to give up and pop open!
We reached his home. He lived alone. It was a tiny 100 sq. ft. room including an adjoining kitchen. It was not well kept. It had an almost broken bed with a torn bed cover and dirty pillow, an old rocking chair and a kitchen that looked like it was straight out of Mohenjodaro - ancient!! One wall was full of frames of various Gods... Most South Indian homes have such walls in their homes :-) And most of those frames are of Paintings by the famous Artist Ravi Verma. It was the same here too. It was a weird house, it was unclean, had a weird smell around it but Grandpa2 had made it cosy for himself.
As I dropped him home, he made me promise that I would visit him again soon. He apparently had "great knowledge" of palmistry and - in his words - wanted to return the favour by reading my hand and telling me my future :-) I personally am not a very big fan of astrology and palmistry. I get scared by all this. So I smiled, wished him well and left. I felt very happy having met him. So as soon as I came home, I told my parents and uncle from Madras who was visiting us about him. Appa and Uncle insisted that I should visit him again since he was so close to home and just keep an eye out for him. So soon, with Appa, I went and met him in his house. Now this Grandpa2 was very particular about sticking to appointments and times. Apparently, he was a very busy man - what with hopping from one temple to the other all day :-))
So after 'scheduling' an appointment, we met him in his house. And as promised, he read my hand. What he read and what he said, went all over our heads. He had a book that was terribly torn, that he kept referring to and read out stuff directly from it. Sometimes, all of a sudden, he'd also peer into my dad's hands and copy-paste a line from the book. It was a hilarious meeting. But one which seemed to make him very happy. He didn't have too many visitors. Some distant relatives seemed to drop by sometimes - but apart from that, not many people went to see him! So he was thrilled at having us there. At the end of his so-called "session", he announced he needed one more such meeting. We left promising we'd be back soon.
But as life is, we got busy and forgot. We went about our routines and seemed to have completely forgotten about our promise. But one fine day, I bumped into him again at the same junction with the same problem :-) So I dropped him home and called Appa there again. It helped greatly that the homes were so close to each other. This was another hilarious meeting where he read stuff straight out of the book and proclaimed that they were indeed his own readings and findings :-) This time though, he also told us about his family. About a wife and young son lost, about daughters who were far away, about friends who weren't around any more, about struggles through his life to raise a "devout tamil brahmin family". He laughed, he smiled, he cried and he spoke passionately about everything. He also got up in the middle of the session and made some coffee for himself and had it. I think, briefly, he forgot we were around :-)
This time, while we were leaving, he told us "You must come back and see me during the Mango Season" ... It was a wonderfully concealed request - "Please bring me mangoes" :-) We agreed and left. And life went on. I didn't meet him during the Mango season. I don't know why. Some days I forgot and when I did remember, I was running late to be some where. And in all this, didn't end up meeting him.
I bumped into him yet again later and he told me this time, that though we didn't meet during mango season, we can meet during the chickoo season :-) For some one like that, he had an elephant's memory!! And also, seemed to be a big fan of seasonal fruits :-)
So a few months later, I decided to drop him a visit. Close to Diwali. Of course, armed with Chickoos :-)
I walked fast and with a smile. I was going to meet Grandpa2 :-) I reached his place, knocked the door and waited. But no one answered. I tried again, but still no answer. So I enquired around. They said he was very ill and admitted to some hospital by some well-wishers and relatives, but didn't know which hospital and didn't have any contact information. I was shocked, sad and extremely angry with myself. I had delayed meeting him for so long without really any strong reason holding me up. And poor old Grandpa2 was in a Hospital. Nevertheless, though extremely disappointed, I thought I'd come back after a few days and check again.
I didn't have to. A few days later, the obituary page in The Times of India carried his photograph. He had passed away. I can't express what emotions went through me when I saw that photograph - a toothy grin, those unbelievably bright eyes and a benevolent expression of calm all across the face. And in that instant, I realized, He was happy wherever he was! Because, He was finally united with his much loved wife and son.
He taught me some extremely important lessons: Not to give up no matter how down and out you are, to smile regardless of what situation you are in, to always be kind, polite and thankful for what you have
And
NO MATTER WHAT, to continue to have the zest for life - ask for the mangoes, ask for the chickoos, read out of a book brazenly while claiming it to be your own readings and God knows, how many more such things loaded with amazing optimism!
I am blessed. I had THE most amazing Grandpa on this earth. And God gave me, for albeit very brief, an experience with another awesome Grandpa too :-)
From both of these gentlemen, I have learnt that being kind is the single most important virtue in life. Because, everything else falls into place when there is kindness, empathy and optimism in life!
I think about Grandpa2 very often. I think about the way he dangerously walked the roads, his love for food and fruits, the élan with which he read from the book, the slight disappointment on his face when I told him I was married to a North-Indian, the pride with which he spoke of his struggles and achievements - everything. And the one thing that stands out always, is the Passion in his quivering, unclear voice. He loved his God and he loved his people. And I am happy that he has these very companions in his journey ahead :-) Thank you, Grandpa2!!
As I wind up this rather long blog post, there's one thing that I'd like to say - a BIG Thank You to all those random strangers who have met me and taught me such amazing life lessons. Keep bumping in :-)
