Every year around this time, I make myself type into words what I feel. I think it is the best I document what I feel least I forget. Every year it is a whine and anger that manifests into words and behind that anger is the love. Last year, I could not follow the annual tradition and I am angry with myself for it. I put myself ahead of someone who meant the world to me. I can give excuses but I know I should have made time. But past is past and this year the annual post in memory of my grandfather is back.

This year, I promise not to crib or complain but instead take a look at the memories. The wonderful ones we created. The ones that I am afraid of forgetting. In these 6 years there has been a lot of changes and time fades memories. No memories do not disappear they become liquid and we add colors to it and make it reflect what we want. This helps us feel better about ourselves and that we really have not forgotten our loved ones but they are there somewhere in our version of memories.

I do not know if the above statements apply to all but it does apply to me. The first couple of years after I said goodbye to my grandpa I could not walk around our house without being flooded by memories. I could not talk about him without the waterworks but today it has become matter-of-fact and yes I am angry at myself for it. But we are going off track, here are a couple of memories to be preserved – in words

I was/am not the brightest when it comes to numbers. Yes I am an engineering graduate but math and me are poles apart. The beginnings were rocky and they continued to be rocky all the way through. I was so glad that I did not have to take any math courses for my Master’s degree. One of my early memories is probably when I was in 2nd or 3rd standard plucking jathi and mullai (flowers from the jasmine family that blossom in vines) buds in our side yard (where there is now a water tank) with my grandfather and him asking be basic math questions. The questions will be something like, “If I had 5 apples and I gave you 2. How many will I have? This is the question so what mathematical operation should you perform to get the answer?” So I had to answer subtraction. I am not sure how many years we did this little exercise but we did it quite often.

This memory is newer. We had guava trees in our house and they were some hybrids I assume and the fruits are not the typical guavas you get in market. They are humongous like a coconut and with a thick outer green covering. I love the guava seeds or the fleshy white part and the greens were never my favorite. In the afternoons, my grandfather used to grab a guava and a knife and he will come searching for me, he will hand me the perfectly cut white portions and enjoy the greens by himself. I cannot place a time frame to this memory but it is fairly recent.

This one is one of those vague memories that are kind of fading off. I remember my grandfather going for his morning walks. He used to wear this special walking dress as I called it. It was a dark dirty brown flannel or was it wool full sleeve shirt to keep him warm. I remember many a mornings as I worked on the kolam him returning from his walks. I also remember him stopping at C-109 in the later years to give us milk if we had not picked it from C-96 the previous evening.

I remember him accompanying me to Dr.Gnansekaran every month for my dental visit when I had my braces on. We used to get down from the town bus and head to the A1 bakery just across the street and treat myself with some sweet buns and masala bread (I remember they were better at the Iyengar bakery in Singarathoopu – these are sandwich bread slices topped with fried onions and a assortment of other stuff and extremely spicy).

I remember sitting at Standard Electricals and sipping some soft drink while he caught up with his old friend.

I remember reading out editorials from The Hindu to him and honestly I think they were more for me and not for him. I remember yawning before I read one paragraph (I still do it. When I read out aloud I need to yawn) and my grandfather laughing at it.

I remember him turning off the water heater as soon as I was in the bathroom. I loved/love long boiling hot water baths. I remember screaming out to him to turn on the water heater.

Oh I remember… lots more.. as I write the memories flow and I need to write more least I forget. I need to write more so that someday I can tell my little girl about my childhood. I need to write so that I feel the pain of losing someone. I need to write to reassure myself that inspite of the life I lead in the corner of my heart and mind he lives. I need to write so that I can look forward to morrow without being angry at myself and I will write.