I have seen people whotreat their elders very badly-and I mean really very badly-and looking at the cruelty I ask myself : would I have done the same IF my grandparents were alive ? maybe its not in everyone's hands to go that wild and inhuman !
“Our society must make it right and possible for old people not to fear the young or be deserted by them, for the test of a civilization is the way that it cares for its helpless members.”
-Pearl S. Buck
Somehow I do not intend to write about the old people just in this one blog, I can do that some other time maybe, but I only look forward to dedicate this post to that one particular man whose love has changed me, his love that I feel even after 18 years of his death...My Dada (paternal grandfather) was some man I could never get to meet, and I consider myself very unfortunate because of that, he died 2 months after my birth...but I know he loved me...beyond the usual walls of love....loved me more than he had loved any other of his grandchildren or his children, well maybe anyone ! I could never really figure out the reason why he showed such admiration and concern towards me. Even till today, I ask myself the answer to what he really saw in me that could make him leave his routine works (as he was very punctual and responsible at everything) and just love me ? I don't know how I will get answers to these questions and many more such, as all these mysteries have been buried down in his grave with him-he liked keeping his belongings with him.Well, every man's deepest secrets are his true belongings that he'd never want to give away- Sometime just to give myself a temporary answer, I tell myself that he has left all these puzzles for me to put together so that I may get to complete the whole picture -the picture of me, MY LIFE !
I've tried to gather all the information I could of my Dada just so that I could get a much clearer picture of him, besides the one loving, caring, peaceful, intelligent, simple and religious man, I know its not all that I have as there is A WHOLE LOT to know more...and I even know that I can not even try to comprehend even the 1% of what he really was, but I'll still try to put down my feelings so that all those who have grandparents in their house realize what treasure they really posses when they pass through my post.
The day I was born, he was there at the hospital and when they gave me in his hands he became really happy...people often mention me the joy that struck him when he saw me, he then thanked God for sending me(here I'd like to add that communities/tribes/class like ours mostly give priority to sons, BUT my grandfather chose me to provide all his love with even though I had an elder brother and other male cousins who could have been the "prince" for him but he simple chose, what he calls, a princess) and then he went to my mother and told her in a very cheerful tone "waah ! what a beautiful daughter you've given birth to". A religious man like him would never let anything come between him and his religious obligations, but they tell me that he always came to my parents' room whether I was sleeping or awake or crying or whatsoever, and would kiss my forehead and only then head towards the mosque for his prayers...religious people don't change their route of the mosque just to show love to an infant child, he could have done that even after performing his prayers...
Today, I strongly feel his "can never be replaced" absence in my life, I can't stop imagining how great my life would have been having him alive and healthy...Every morning I would wake up early dazz down to his room and buzz in (just the carefree way I am) to greet him and start my day with a wonderful chat with him, have breakfast with him, then he'd come outside the house till the corner of the road just to wave me goodbye when I'd leave for my school/college/university/work, then come home and find him worrying cause I was mere 5 minutes late ! and to find that he hadn't eaten anything in lunch cause I was not there, then later in the evening he would help me regarding my studies/assignments/presentations etc. and before going to bed have a good and nice conversation with him, that would include all the religious,human behaviour, political and all such awesome topics that have some questions in my mind unanswered.AH ! how unfortunate I am that I have to eat my breakfast alone, find no one waiting for me for lunch, no one to help me in my stuff AND no one to clear my thoughts and misunderstanding so that I could go to sleep with an unconfused and non-perplexed mind.
Often I have dreams of him...dreams where he is with me, where he talks to me and helps me in all my queries, dreams that do not matter come whether I am sleep or awake.Somehow I have always felt his presence around me...I know he wont leave my side, after all he loved me unlike any other thing in the world. I have a picture of him in my wallet along with my daddy's picture(as he is second in my fav peoples list) and I take it wherever I go, I even have a picture of him just beside this computer on which I am typing all this story of him, but I hardly stop and look at it, not because of what a rush of things my life has become but because I do not want to start into tears and feel his absence yet presence in my life.
By profession he was a teacher, a very famous teacher in my village for his kindness towards kids and sincerity towards his work, AND that is the reason why I always have a strong respect towards any teacher today, according to him a teacher's job is not to just teach the course that he is obliged to complete in an academic year and take his salary BUT also to heal a student's soul and enlightened his heart and mind so that he could understand world here and hereafter and life a much much MUCH better life.
I am ending this post here as I do not like to cry thinking and talking about him, because he didn't want me to be a weak child and particularly because he would hate it most if I complain to God for his decisions and crying for him would mean so. He and I, both know that God chooses the best and He definitely has a very solid reason for taking him away from me.
:)
“Beautiful young people are accidents of nature, But beautiful old people are works of art”
-Eleanor Roosevelt
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