(FAMILY) Tata.....

He always had this profound stillness about him though he was six feet tall and well built. Chiseled features and he walked with a handsome stride. By today’s standards, he could’ve been quite a hit on the runaway, my grandfather. You’d notice his eyes first, steely with a seemingly hard gaze that could silence you for a while. But if you looked closer, you might catch that twinkle somewhere. Those eyes noticed everything, though you may not notice it cause he never lets you to. Almost like he didn’t care. It was just a mask actually, because behind all the apparent disregard, there was actually a deeply compassionate heart.

I guess life made him hard a bit. He left his family and his homeland at the tender age of 12. How a child coped emotionally with such separation, loneliness and adjusting to a totally strange, foreign land, one could only imagine. And then there was WW2.War harden people up and does certain things to them. He had lived to experience the brutalities of WW2 that left him only with one side of hearing for the rest of his life.

As I was growing up, I remember him talking about the war as age and its best friend, nostalgia caught up with him. He talked about how he walked through thick jungle at midnight and how that rid him of fear. He used to say that if you could walk in pitch darkness in the jungles with snakes slithering by your feet, tigers roaring in the background and somewhere ahead your enemies are waiting to put a bullet in your head, then nothing in life could frighten you anymore. But the most important thing of all, he said, you must respect Mother Nature. And she will return the favour. And he lived by that.

You could say he was fearless, what else you’d say of a man who talked to 12 feet long pythons and 10 feet king cobras who make their house calls and ask them to leave politely. He’d said, “Look, I know you didn’t come here to cause trouble, but people will kill you anyway because they are afraid of you, so leave in peace”. Amazingly, many did ‘listen’ to him as he gently guided them with a stick out of the compound. There was a period in his late years, when every late afternoon he’d drive his old Morris to the family orchard and park under a tree that was home for a group of small green snakes, under which he’d take a long nap. You don’t have to guess who was nervous, whether him or the snakes. I didn’t see those snakes anymore after he stopped going there, as he got too weak to drive anymore. Perhaps they got so used to him that it was no more 'home' for them when he was gone.

Fearlessness, honesty, dignity, independence and individuality are the values he shared with his wife and imparted to his children. I remember my mother telling me how he stood up for justice when he discovered money was being philandered from a society fund he was in charge of. Despite threats from the offenders, he stood his ground. Just like how he stood up against the atrocities committed against innocent people during the war, for which he lost his hearing when he was punished for it.His values, however, remained uncompromised. He always spoke his mind. He was not one to compromise to be agreeable. For that he stood out among men for that required a lot of courage and conviction. Always an invidual, always true to himself.

Losing his beloved wife had a mellowing effect on him. His lifetime restraint melted away with his tears as he held her hands while she lay helpless in bed after stroke. He would come in every few minutes to check on her, massaging her legs, talking gently to her, his eyes full of love and worry on his face. That was the first time I ever saw him cry. And to see this giant of a man break down, tears glittering in those softened eyes, looking so helpless and not knowing what to do to, for he knew the most precious one in his life was going to leave him forever...it was heartbreaking to see him that way. He never quite recovered from losing her.

After grandmother passed on, he more or less spent the rest of his life in resignation, eagerly waiting. He dearly wanted to go to, he kept making this wishes aloud. One evening, as I came by to visit him, I heard him talking inside the house. I was surprised because I knew there was no one else at home. He was saying, “I know you are ok, dear, but why did you leave me alone and go away…… ” Quickly I went in and I saw him sitting with a mug of tea in his hand and another mug of tea next to him. I said, “Tata, who are you talking to?” He looked up startled and then he gave me a rather sheepish grin. “Oh…nothing…just thinking of your grandmother.” I felt guilty of having intruded on his privacy. I quietly slipped away. Perhaps its right, even death can’t separate true lovers.

Though he rarely demonstrated his affections while grandmother was alive, I remember catching them together in the kitchen one early morning when I was around 10, he was humming a tune and playfully nudging her and teasing her while she made breakfast and she was trying to shoo him away by waving a ladle and saying, “Go away, don’t disturb me” though the smile on her face showed she was obviously enjoying the attention. In another occasion when I was around 8, I was waiting for lunch when he came into the kitchen and started frying some vegetables. I asked him “Tata, how come you are cooking, where’s grandmother?” He said, “She is not well and is lying down..” I asked him, “But can you cook, Tata?” He smiled, “Why not you wait and taste it, I’m a good cook you know.” But I said, “Then how come, you never cooked before?” He looked at me, that twinkle in his eyes, “Because I like your grandmother’s cooking better.”

One of my most profound memories of him was when I had a child of my own, there was a few occasions he visited us and he’d sit there with her and help her break peanuts, her favorite and he’d feed her. And she would try to feed him and he’d say, “I can’t chew, sweetie, see, all my teeth are gone. Never mind, you eat.” And even when he dozed off to sleep, he would immediately wake up the moment he heard her cry, “Why is she crying? Please don’t let her cry.” This is my precious memories of his moments of tenderness. In fact, sometimes I felt my grandmother lived within him in spirit after she died because he became almost maternal, reaching out to us, as though, he was trying to make up for her loss for all of us.

It was nearly 7 years before he had his final 'wish' granted. He looked almost relieved when his time came. He had lived a long fulfilled life. Seen all his children grow and succeed in their lives. When I visited him in the hospital, he was drifting in and out of consciousness. My youngest aunt called out to him, he opened his eyes slowly and she asked him whether he recognized me. He looked at me and he said my name. For a moment, I thought I saw that twinkle in his eyes. But then, he drifted off again. That was the last i saw him alive.

When he finally left this world a week later, he left in peace and with true contentment of a life well-lived etched on the wrinkles of his aged, handsome face.

When I think about him and grandmother today, I can almost see them sitting somewhere in a garden of paradise with a mug of tea in their hands, exchanging memories while looking out on the rest of us as they continue to live in our hearts forever......