Of lost times and unforgettable memories!

This post is inspired. And inspired by something so well-written that I am at a lack of coherent words to describe it. It is an eulogy posted by Krish Ashok about his grandmother.

http://krishashok.wordpress.com/2010/04/15/s-meenakshi-1917-2010/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Feed:+DoingJalsaAndShowingJilpa+(Doing+Jalsa+and+Showing+Jilpa

Its simplicity of thoughts took me back to my grandparents and those magical naive era.

I want to go back to that time:

When my taatha used to sit patiently for hours to feed me and tirelessly carry me on his frail shoulders for his evening walk.

When my bombay paati had tears in her eyes and experienced my success with pride and joy as though it was her own.

When my paati took me to school every morning and I would come running out to find her standing every evening waiting for me, without fail, never late!

When my bombay taatha made me watch insanely boring test matches while he snored away to glory and got up as if by magic, when I changed the channel.

When taatha used to heat water under the sun, for that was healthy, for my evening bath

When bombay taatha used to seat me on his lap while performing his daily pooja and never once complained about the disturbances I almost always caused him.

When bombay paati used to make that rasam, that unforgettable rasam, in the aluminium vessel.

When paati used to tell me long long tales about everything during my lunch time.

When taatha tolerated all the excited bites from an over enthusiastic child.

When I spent a year and a half with bombay taatha after paati's demise- when I could hear his never condeming voice and see his extra-ordinarily adorable actions.

When bombay paati was the personification of strength- mental and emotional- the most highly respected lady in our locality.

When paati always, always protected my from amma's anger.

Those are times that can never be lost. No matter what my age was and what the retention capacity was at that phase of life, these experiences of magic have subconsciously registered are ingrained in me forever.

I cannot reproduce the emotions as those are best left unsaid. I can only be thankful for having being at the receiving end of such unselfish love.

Three of them- my bombay paati, bombay taatha and my madras taatha have attained a higher state of life- This post is dedicated as much to them as it is to my madras paati who still lets me

be a 5 year old and get away with my naughtiness!