I Love My Grandfather (Dadu)

I lost my maternal grandfather, yesterday night. It feels odd because even though he was keeping unwell for years now, I always thought he will always be there. He just cannot go. 

I called him Dadu, fondly. The term means grandfather, in parts of India. 

Charming man he was. A math genius, a literature and crossword aficionado, my dadu was just amazing. He loved eating fish, I never did, but he wanted me to have fish, all the time. 

Yesterday, when I received the news of his demise, I was in shock. My grandfather, who was always supposed to be there, and never go away, how could he not wait to see me one last time? I was planning to go home this weekend.  A home which is 2.5 hours away by air and of course the road travel. That means I just cannot get up and go and see him now. It breaks my heart.

I just wanted to know what I could do for him. There is nothing much left to do anyways. He somehow managed to think he could leave me without saying goodbye or letting me hug him one last time. What do I do to honor his memory apart from shedding all those tears. "I will eat fish." I decided. Who knows how you can let the deceased know how much you love them. Can they hear you, can they see you while they float just above your head? Do they know if you are writing an obituary for them? 

He has always been proud of how practical I am, yet I saw myself failing miserably in holding on to the last bit of practical bone in my body. 

He was loving and strict. He made sure that I studied well and got good grades. That I never swayed from my path of achieving my goals in life. Trust me when I say he was persistent. My parents never really asked me to study one day in my life, they trusted me in all that I did. I was pretty self-motivated. But even for the most self-motivated person, you always need an external source of motivation. Dadu was the one who took up that job. 

He would wake up at 3.30 am (since he was suffering from insomnia, too) and start solving algebra problems. He used to write beautiful poems and prose. A conversation with him was always so enriching. A self-made man, he saw hard times in his life but his persistence, love for life, and optimism ensured he lived a full-life. Although the last years of his life were filled with sickness and pain, yet he never gave up the idea of living his life. He inspires me. I was upset and angry that he left without saying goodbye to me, but I understand. 

I will never hear his voice calling my name again or run to him to tell him about my achievements, but I guess he will always know. 

Love you dadu!