My Love

Before reading this, I request u to think of some person whom u love/loved. U may well appreciate if this blog is nostalgic.
In contrast to my previous blogs, this one is not gonna be entertaining. This one is not gonna make u feel good. This one is not gonna bring smiles on ur face. In fact this one will bring tears. This one will bring back the old memories, the ones u wish to remember, those which u want to take till ur grave. Every emotion has got a meaning and a person attached to it. Though the meaning is tangible only to the “owner”, the person is extant, at least, was. Though the soul and the body separate, memories remain etched. This is something deep in u, something that others can’t see, feel, or sense. That is the beauty of emotions, nobody can access it, but u. Nobody can take it away from u. U can feel it deep down there (in ur heart, head, mind) irrespective of the ambiance, external factors. The best thing about life is, it has sprinkled upon us numerous blissful occasions. The worst thing is, (in most cases) we relish them only as history. So, here I am, recollecting, recounting the wonderful past I had.
I loved my granddad (I still do, but for the sad fact he is no more). I was in 7th when he was first admitted in hospital for a mild stroke. He was 79 then. He came back home in a fortnight, a weaker man, both mentally and physically. that was the time when I started liking him so much.I still dunno wat made me like him so much but I did. I used to help him eat, bathe and do every daily activity ( I mean it..every daily activity). he liked playing cards. I would play with him, for his delight. He liked to go out of the house, but was unable to walk without an assist, I was his staff. I wud do any act that will satisfy him, to keep him happy the rest of his (short) life ahead.
I still remember this incident when I brought home a chocolate, waiting to bite into it. My grandpa saw this choc and wanted to eat it (there is a child in every man!).Me being an 8th std kid, not many wud expect me to give it to him, but I did. I saw the smiles on his face when he was eating that, relishing every inch of it, till the very last piece. I was a silent observer, drenched in delight, watching the old man slip into oblivion at his ease. I bet I wud not have experienced a contentment, even remotely close to that in my entire life.there are many such instances when u "live" for others, because u love them. Love is the language that anybody speaks/understands. These are the moments that define our lives, These are the moments that make our life, those which make life worth living… for, it is in giving that we receive! He was again admitted at 86, that was the last time he was admitted. His last few days were unsightly. I knew the end was just round the corner, it just mattered how slow he was traveling. I was with him when the soul departed, orphaning a young heart. I was there, not with moist eyes but with a craving heart..the human mind is really a funny one. Even though u know u won’t get it, it still yearns. Memories are the medicine to these wounds, no better ones.
(Even today, any old man I see, I treat him like my grandpa. I still go the extra mile to drop the old man who wants a lift. In him, I see my grandpa. In his happiness, I see my grandpa’s)

All said and done, “life must go on”. There is no point in worrying about the past, the future is here for us, to be invented.



PS: I took the weight off my feet to blog this, after seeing the Gautham Vasudeva Menon film “Vaaranam Aayiram”.