The Birds Are Happy Now (I)

I was wandering aimlessly through the crowded streets of M.G. Road when suddenly, I got a call from home and got to know that my grandfather had been admitted to a hospital. Although he had not smoked in ages now, he was always prone to chest infections and now more so than ever at the age of 82.

His face swam in front of my eyes. Both the wrinkled old one when I had met him last time and the handsome young one, from the photos that he would carefully show me from his old and lovingly kept brown leather bag. A charismatic man, in his all-white attire, ready to join as a paramedic in the Indian Army. This was  in the early 1950s. Well, he looked no less dashing than Humphrey Bogart in The Maltese Falcon.

***

Never in his life had he raised his hand on me. But he was, as I recollect, quite critical and strict  with others. The first thing that comes to my mind when I think of my childhood is the “Perfect Round Omelette” incident. So, my parents were not home  for some reason and my grandma had to make me breakfast that day. At this point, I should tell you that I was an extremely irritating and fussy six/seven-year-old with unusual demands. I told her that I want an intact and completely round omelette. My grandma said jokingly, “Yes, why not“…but while flipping it over she broke it into two, exactly in the middle. Seeing this, I flew into such a rage that even Jules Winnfield from Pulp Fiction would have felt scared, had he been standing in front of me. Without any further thoughts I just grasped a heavy spinach cutting knife lying nearby, and yes, as horrible and violent as it sounds, I threw it towards her hand.

Much to my regret, my aim was bang on target. Grandma immediately started shouting and crying, and my Grandpa rushed in to see the bloody outcome of my ‘Furious Anger’. He quickly got some bandages, stopped the bleeding and immediately pulled out his bicycle to take her to the nearby clinic. I went along, hanging my head in shame, eyes brimming with tears at the stupid act I had so thoughtlessly caused. She ended up with four stitches on her hand and many days of eating with left hand. My grandpa didn’t hit me, instead, he hugged me and said: “Let’s see who gives you perfect round omelettes now?”.

***

I remember the times when we would go on our early morning walks even during winters and I’d be wrapped up like Nostromo’s crew in their space suits as shown in the movie Alien. He would tell me all the stories about deities, his exciting adventures during Army days, excerpts from the Holy Bhagavad Gita or Gurbani, both of which he knew by heart. But I seldom understood any of those things at that time. Also, I remember the times when he would drop and pick me up from the school bus followed by a chilled glass of  Rooh Afza, which I would slurp up like a little puppy.

I remember the sadness on his face when my parents had decided to move to the nearby town, and the tears in his eyes when we went to meet him for the 1st time after leaving the village. I remember it all…