The clouds have let up for the moment and we've had a patch of sunny weather. Blue skies are back again - yippee!
September is a month for memories. My grandfather's birthday is at the end of the month and whenever September comes around - we tend to reminisce about him a lot. And boy, was he ever a character! Peppery, irritable, fractious, witty, acid-tongued and with very little patience for fools - he dominated our lives as the original paterfamilias. His grandchildren were always a little scared of him, I think - me , least of all , as his eldest grandchild - because we never knew where the next irritable remark was coming from. But he was like the banyan tree - in whose nurturing shade, we were protected and shielded. And that's something you realize when you leave home for the first time and step out into the big, bad world.
As part of an extended family, in a typical patriarchal system, girls generally get the short end of the stick. But strangely for a man of his age and social mores, my grandfather was unequivocal in his support of the female child. When I wanted to leave home to study in the far off north, he was my strongest supporter. When I had a falling-out with my in-laws, he was my rock. My grandmother trotted out the usual arguments about how a girl should learn patience and adjustment (yeah, right!) but he was so proud of me for having struck back at the Empire.
He was a repository of tales and reminiscences - my cousins will remember the one about the tiger and the one about the scary footsteps at night especially. His feisty comeback after his strokes never ceased to amaze us. Nor did he miss a chance at exasperating us with his insistence that he was absolutely fine. From a humble background, he climbed to the rather rarefied heights of a conferred IAS and headed the APSRTC as Director, Operations and APSTC as well. My daughter remembers him as a very old man, her great-grandfather, who taught her to say 'Kanakaambaram', when she couldn't pronounce the word.
How happy he was to see her when she was born, when I got home from hospital! And his reaction was so typical too; I was admonished for not holding her properly and he told me not to drop her!:-) And then, in spite of our outcry, he insisted on carrying her so he could see her face properly. In his waning years, he would sit out on the porch in winter, in the sun, falling asleep over the newspaper. But woe betide anyone who thought him a faded old man - he would spring up into wakefulness like a tiger and could argue the proverbial hind foot off a donkey when he chose to.
When I think of him, he seems like a beacon, shining strongly down the years, guarding us against rocky shoals and steering all of us to safe passage. May god bless his soul!
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