Remembering Grandpa: Reflections on the 14th Anniversary of His Passing

My maternal grandfather, who I used to affectionately refer to as my nana, passed away 14 years ago today, marking the anniversary of his passing. Each day, I miss him more and more. Yesterday, he appeared in my dreams, and I couldn’t help but smile the whole time. Every year, I think about him and remember him for his purity and honesty, as well as his discipline of getting up early every day, taking a bath, getting ready, performing puja, eating breakfast, and then settling down to devour the newspaper. I remember whenever he went to the market, he would always walk there. This was his routine. Only in his final days did I ever see him riding in a rickshaw, and even then, it was only very infrequently. He is the only member of my family who was content with whatever little he had. He was never one to complain about money or the materialistic things. Being a north Indian, I am aware of the importance that people place on the physical appearance, but he was never about showing off. He was content with his simple pant-shirt or kurta pajama clothes.

I am pleased to say that I share some of his characteristics, such as the fact that he was a voracious reader and a devoted devotee of Lord Shiva. In addition to being a strong advocate for ladies’ education and achieving financial independence, he had a strong desire for me to earn a master’s degree in business administration from a prestigious institution. However, up to this point, I have not been able to fulfill his wishes.

I was a pampered brat when I was with him. He never raised his voice at me and always seemed to get everything that I asked for. When I went to get my eyes checked during my time in college and the doctor suggested that I begin wearing glasses, I recall that everyone in my family began accusing me of spending too much time in front of the television or on my mobile device. He was the only person who stood by me throughout this difficult time and said — “Let’s go get the best pair of frames in the city.”

Even though he was a strict vegetarian, I recall that on the weekends he would give me money so that I could go out and purchase a chicken dish because he knew that I love eating non-vegetarian food. To tell you the truth, he used to join me at the table for dinner on a regular basis. With him, I experienced the affection that a parent would give without conditions.

His watch, his small book of the Bhagavad Gita (translated into English), his glass, and a book that I discovered in his room are all examples of little things that I have, to remember him. At the time of his passing, I was only twenty years old, and the only thing I regret is that I was unable to spend a significant amount of time with him and that I never had the opportunity to talk to him about his childhood and youth. I miss you, Nana. Until the next time we meet!