My Ajaa (Nana Ji/maternal grandfather) passed away today morning, at the age of 97.
I believed he would live to a hundred. I spoke to him just a few days back , the day he was returning to Keonjhar from Bhubaneswar, when he told me he survived a scare. I told him he isn't dying anytime soon. He had been brought in to Bhubaneswar after he coughed up some blood. All his tests and endoscopy came back clean. He probably wanted it this way, to pass away amidst his beloved family , in his beautiful home.
Even at 97, he told me he will get his eyes operated when I come to get him. He had lost his eyesight the last couple of years to cataract. Till I moved out of Keonjhar in 2010, he would only go to the doctor with me. He trusted me for some reason, much to the annoyance of my uncles. Even for a few year after, he would wait till I went back home annually for his tests and check ups. As my visits became more irregular and further apart , he then shifted that dependence to my brothers and Papa. Today morning, when he started to feel unwell, he called Papa at 5 in the morning. Papa went, he was brought downstairs, and he passed away in his presence. I know he still wanted to live. I will remember him as that- someone who loved life and lived it to the fullest.
As I write this his pyre burns in Puri, at Swargadwar, where he had wished his last rites to be carried out. I sit here , watching through pictures , his body turn to ashes, remembering him and his stories.
The memories flash by like in a fast forward movie. Even in my earliest memories of him, I remember his as a bright eyed, sharp witted , caring person, without a malicious bone. My relationship with him was that of pure love. I was, after all, his eldest grand child.
The foolish me was embarrassed of him when I was about 7-8 years old. All other friend's and families' nanajis were cool and mine was weirdly bearded and wore dhoti and kurta. I wondered then, why he couldn't be like others.
Only later, in fact, much later, I grew to respect him and his choices, when I understood his Gandhian values. His knowledge, his values and his crisp ironed white cotton dhoti and kurtas carried a much deeper meaning and became a part of me. Everywhere I went, later in my life, in my home town, I would be told, "Vini, your grandfather was my teacher". These were other teachers, engineers, doctors, people on the street, anyone and everyone, who went to school through 50s till 80s. This was said with pride and brought in realisation in me that he chose to be a teacher and he taught well. He was loved as a teacher and adored as an individual.
He was definitely my teacher in my earliest memories. When I was not even one (that's what he told me), he would give me puzzles, word and math puzzles, that i loved to solve. Every year , when we came back home for holidays, my best memories were of sitting outside my nanaji's house when he would" show off" how bright his granddaughter was . I enjoyed that attention and of course I came back inspired to learn more. I still do a puzzle on a stressful day, a habit that he helped form.
I have always wondered about my own self and today, as reminiscence about our memories, I realise how much like him I am. A ghummakkad (one who couldn't stay at one place for a long time) who loved travel, a genuine love for people around him, a connectedness with a much larger world, I get these from him I think. No-one else in our family has these so inherent as he did. Not that I can ever match his levels. He would ask about everyone . He was updated on all changes around the lives of people he knew, not just family, but friends, sometimes, strangers he had met and made them his own. He had this thing about him, that endeared him to people. And I don't think he was aware of that. It was just him, genuinely interested in people and their lives. He probably celebrated everyone's success with equal pride and was heartbroken if he heard something sad. He continued to have that quality till his last breath.
He was also a kanjoos (miser). And as I grew older I did realise he was just mindful and would avoid unnecessary expenses. He couldn't have brought up all his children, each of whom are leaders in their own spaces, and shouldered a large joint family without being one. I wish I had a bit of that trait though. I'm too loose with my purse for my own good. I have many of these stories that I will laugh about when I think of him. Being that kanjoos, very vocally, unabashedly, was just one of them.
Till about a few years back, maybe just 7-8 years when he developed a heart issue and was forced to become homebound, he travelled on his own. In public transport. In buses. My aai (naniji/ grandmother) used to be eternally annoyed, as he would many times just sit in a bus and go away on some "work" without telling her. He would , thanks to mobile phones, call her in the later years. Before that, she would just wonder many days if he would be back for lunch or had gone away to do some work. The "work" by the way, could be as varied as meeting someone, getting some paperwork done, help someone in need, a news he heard about someone and he needed to go visit the family at that instant. No planning or thinking. He just needed to go. I think , he just didn't like being stationary, either physically or mentally. I know for sure, he is chatting up the whole heaven, reaching out to all his friends and acquaintances who went before him. He's probably also giving a puzzle to the gods to solve and chuckling when they fail.
He , single handedly started the Shahid Smriti Diwas at Nandapur Village in Champua, which has become an annual event where thousands throng to pay respect to the Kargil Shahid Gautam Pradhan. But this is one of so many things he did. He loved getting people together. If it wasn't a large public event, it probably was a family get together that he loved to plan.
So many things , so many memories with you Ajaa.
Ajaa, You were a part of my life's many "firsts". So many of them. You were the first to see my board results, my first day to college, to meet Ravi, to see me as a bride and you cried at every one of those occasions. You were so proud of me. And continued to be till today. You kept a watch on my travel, my well being, much more than I did. I will miss those calls.
Ajaa, You lived a full life. You gave us so many lessons without us realising those were life lessons. I will carry a lot of pride in being your eldest grand daughter. And your void I will fill with stories and travels, the two things you loved the most.
Ajaa, travel well.
No comments:
Post a Comment