Dear Grandpa,
I was looking at some family photos today, and happened to come across some of yours. That's how I remembered you after all these years. The photos were taken on the occasion of your 70th birthday. You seem to be very much in control of yourself in these pics, so I guess it must have been before the world lost a sane you. Perhaps for the first time since you passed away, I miss you.
I miss those pleasant summer nights when you'd tell us - your grandchildren seated around you - stories from Indian mythology, folktales, or just about anything that you thought would capture our interest. I want to tell you that your storytelling usually had us in rapt attention. Of course, being the attentive man you always were, you'd have noticed this right then. Years later, I can still remember how thrilled I used to feel listening to them.
I miss your presence among us; you, the person who was instrumental in making sure that we (my brother and I) continued our education in a CBSE school. I never knew the difference between school boards at that time, except for the vague feeling of superiority over the "lowly" state boards and their ridiculous syllabus. You never made my parents feel the pinch of giving us an expensive, but an ultimately rewarding education (at least in terms of what they call "worldly" success).
I miss my affectionate grandpa - the one who never used to think twice about visiting us from as great a distance as 10km (in those days when public transport was not any better than today (in Madras), and when travelling by autorickshaws was not really an option for us middle-class people, any place that was not covered by PTC was indeed a great distance away) just so that he could spend some time with his daughter and her children, and thrill the kids with a few surprise gifts. I remember one instance when I didn't even bother to invite you inside our house when you'd travelled in spite of the mercilessly hot weather just to see us - I was too busy playing with the neighbours' kids. I wish my mother had given me a good beating then - not only would I not be feeling so guilty about it now, I might have also learnt a valuable lesson then on how to treat people who are important to us. I am sorry grandpa.
I'm sorry too, that I didn't take as much time as I should have taken to pay my last respects to you - I was too busy helping a friend do her website! Can you imagine that? I was dumb, really, horribly dumb! Every time I think of it, I feel like an absolutely heartless cretin. You were one of the many caring people who are responsible for where I am today, and I couldn't even spare time to pay my last dues to you - it's just too sick for words!
I wish I had made a better effort to understand your state of mind when everyone started to think that you'd lost it. I didn't think so, but that's only because I didn't know what it was that afflicted you, and that was because I was confused by the different theories put forward - you were upset because your business associate of many years cheated you out of a huge amount of money; you were the victim of some voodoo magic; I was simply unable to come to any conclusions. I am not sure if anyone in our family really knows what happened to you in your last years, because nobody seemed to have thought of taking you to a neurologist or whoever the doc is who scans people's brains to check for problems.
Whatever it was, I know it was painful to you and your wife, my grandma. Perhaps you were unaware of how much trouble you caused her, but I have to tell you this - she was devoted to you unto your last. Though she complained about having to take care of your smallest needs (because she herself was ailing physically), she never shirked the work. I wish now, when it's too late, that I had done more to ease your pain. I wish I'd been a source of some comfort to grandma, and I know you'd have approved of it.
Thank you for having been there for me when I needed it, even when I was not intelligent enough to understand the need myself. Thank you for having spent time with us when you could have done numerous other meaningful tasks, or even lost yourself in one of your favourite pastimes - listening to Carnatic music. (In fact, I owe my many hours of great pleasure in listening to this genre of music (to me, the only music now is classical) to you directly or indirectly (through your daughter)). Thank you for having been who you were - a loving and caring grandpa - even if I acted like an ingrate. I hope you will forgive me, not because my remorse is sincere if late by many years, but because you're my grandpa.
Yours with love.
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