My grandfather was reading out my favourite Phantom story to me and then he suddenly stopped. He abruptly stood up and walked away even as I bawled. He turned, gave me a sorrowful look and then he was gone. I sat up, the sweat streaking down my forehead in long rivulets. The dream never went away; just came back every time with an intensity that was traumatic.
There were too many problems burdening him. His son had just turned 12; an age when sons need their fathers the most. It was also becoming difficult to educate the girls with the expenses mounting and the debts……..His heart was another story. He had to somehow pull on; it could not fail him now. She did not know about it and he would not tell her; she already had enough to worry about.
I was just two and a half when he left us. Our house could not accommodate all the people who came to pay their last respects. I was entrusted to my grandmother and although I did not know that my grandfather was dead, I saw them covering him with a white cloth. He was lying on the plank unmoving and I guessed that something was wrong. Then I saw my grandmother’s tears.
She would never forgive herself for this mistake. How could she have done this? She had seen his pale face but thought that it was because of fatigue due to the long hours of travel. The journey had been a nightmare; no hospital in sight and his heart not willing to give him any more time……….
There were loud shouts and all the men helped put the body into the truck. Cotton had been stuffed into his nostrils and people were throwing flowers on the body as the truck started moving. “Ram Naam Sathya Hai” rent the air leaving a void in all our hearts – some who knew the truth, some who were not aware and one little mite who was too small even to understand that the one she was so attached to was gone. My mother was inconsolable.
Never….the word had a horrible ring to it. She needed him and did not want any one else. But she had a little girl now whom she had to look after. Daddy’s little girl…..that’s what he used to call her. Now she could see him in her daughter. How could she explain to the angel that Thatha was never going to come back with sweets for her or to lift her up in his arms and throw her into the air?
Every time we used to pass under the railway bridge, I would begin my litany – “Mr. Train please bring my grandfather and grandmother from Madras. Tell them to come soon because I am waiting for them here.” I was too young to understand why my mother’s eyes became moist every time. My mind could not accept the fact that I would not see my grandfather any more. He had just gone on a long vacation and had forgotten me.
She hated boarding school but had to stay there at least for 5 years. Everyone was deserting her. Grandfather had left her and hadn’t even called since then; mother wanted her to stay in boarding for 5 years or even 12. She was only 5 now. At night the stars were the only ones who knew her secret desire – to see her grandfather at least once. But she learnt the truth. He had gone; left her…..
When I was small I used to question my mother as to why God did not take away those whom we hate. God’s logic of taking away those whom we love the most always escaped me. But I have come to realise that only when we lose those we deeply love, do we realise what they meant to us. I am always grateful that I got to experience two and a half years of his love…….because I know now that it is enough to last me a lifetime………...
