Walking down the packed lanes of the market, amidst the hubbub of the Christmas air I look around the happy faces in the hustling surroundings. Not everything plush and exuberant makes me happy these days. It has been a week or so since grandpa left us— loss, tears and an obvious realization that people once gone never come back.
There was only one place I yearned to spend my vacation at — Granny’s home, is what we called it and what we knew it for. It was a place where granny resided permanently, with grandpa being just a visitor most of the times rather than a resident. Finally as old-age took over him, he returned back to his family, to his roots, putting to rest the passion of his life ‘law’. It was during the final decade of his life that I came in with close proximity with him— knowing him better and getting astonished at his weird habits.
Spending a major portion of his life among piles of papers scribbled with articles and principles from the Indian constitution, grandpa was the only man I knew who lived and cherished his job (unlike others who whine). An upright and honest legal practitioner by profession, his shabby clothes and well worn slippers reflected it, contrary to the other white-collared workers of his reputation. Continue reading