Encounter with my Grand Father

I wrote this a few decades ago..........

I am writing this article about my grandfather (maternal) who had influenced me in my early childhood. I respect him a lot because of his tremendous knowledge and his deep concern about humanity.  He was an ardent reader. He read books ranging from Perry Mason to Freudian theories at the age of 65.

I was around 10 years when he decided to come and stay in our Trivandrum house. My father liked him a lot as he treated my father as his son. He called my father "Jayan"(famous movie actor in the 70’s). My father prepped me and my brother before his visit. He told me and my brother to make use of his visit and warned me not to irritate him as he was known for his short temper.

I was around 10 years then, very bad in studies. My elder brother was the class topper and he was my father's favorite. My mother’s attention was divided between the kitchen and my 2-year-old sister. We stayed in our grandmother's house (paternal). My Grandmother was a disciplinarian. She takes food in fixed intervals and she too had a bad temper.

Anyway, the story goes like this. My Grandfather came with a huge collection of books. My uncle arranged a big almirah to keep the books in order. My uncle was so scared of my Grandfather that he won't sit in front of him. My father and grandfather were like friends and I saw them boozing once in a while.

I decided to impress my grandfather. The next day, early morning, I woke up, took bath and went in front of my grandfather with the Hindu newspaper. He didn't mind me at all. He was reading V.K Krishna Menon’s biography. He acknowledged my presence and asked me whether I know the guy in the book. I was clueless. I murmured VV Giri, who was then Kerala’s Governor. He didn't say whether it is correct or not. I understood that this old man is a tough guy. I heard my grandmother (father's mother) telling our maid that this guy is from a well-off family but a drunkard and a communist. Communists were considered the worst people in the world by my grandmother.

Later that day, I went to my grandfather’s room. He was not there. I saw a lot of books scattered on the floor. I thought I'll arrange it on the new shelf. I was able to arrange the books in the second row of the shelf as I was too short to keep it in the top rows. My grandfather came back from his bath with a strange smell of some aftershave lotion. My father's smell is either Wills Cigarette’s smell or of Old Spice's smell. Even now, when I use Old Spice I remember my father. Later my uncle commented that my grandfather uses Eudi cologne and my father uses less expensive Old Spice. My grandfather came from his 2-minute bath and had a grin on his face. I wondered why and with whom this old man is angry.

He looked at the book rack and started shouting. He screamed, “who the hell asked you to arrange these books. Whether your mother (he called her Pig then) will come and take the books from the lower racks”. I became very very disappointed. I tried to help him and he shouted at me. My father also shouts often. I was so traumatized in those times. My mother noticed that I always sit/chat with gals than with boys in school. Even though I was a big guy I was scared of the Gulf guys in the school.

Then came my Grandmother(maternal). Quite contrary to her husband, she was a very humble woman. So nice a human being that my father's mother will say that “Parukutty Amma will go to Heaven”. She came and consoled me. She advised “ Chankoo( my pet name) before you do something ask whether the other person wants it or not” and added, “always arrange the books with the printed side out so that one can see what book it is”.

Suddenly, an unexpected question was thrown at me by my grandmother. “What is your grade in school? Heard that you are not as smart as your brother?” After gathering some courage, I decided to tell the truth. I told my rank is NIL as I failed in Malayalam. The old man stopped his reading, turned his face to me, and said. “Did you write VV Giri as the answer to the questions they asked?. During that time Bruce Lee's "Enter the Dragon" was a hit and I prayed for a moment that I should have muscles like Bruce Lee so that I could give him a Karate punch. Anyway, I liked his Humor sense.

My brother was shy enough to come in front of this Oldzilla. After a week or two, I noticed that this Oldzilla will talk only with me in our house. Our servant won't even go in front of him and my mother used to clean that room. My Father's mother started preaching to him about Bhagavath Gita and often my grandfather won't listen to it at all.

My entire thought was how to win this Oldzilla. During school, I made questions that I thought I can ask him. One day after school, I went in front of him. He was smoking some cigarette with a disgusting smell. He asked me to wait outside until he finishes his smoking. I sat on the floor cleaned so well by my mother. He immediately told me to stand up. He advised me not to sit below someone. I observed that he had only one tone. The angry tone. He stares at our eyes and he always observed what we are doing. He continued. He told its people who themselves become slaves. No one can boss you until otherwise, you are accepting that. He asked me to change my posture. Stand with your chest 3 inch outwards. Never talk without having eye contact.

That night I went to my father and told him all the advice I got. My father told me he is irrational on certain topics and never completely follows what he is telling. My father also told me it is always better to be polite with others. Anyway, I liked my Grand father’s advice. I observed that whenever I talked with the Oldzilla I am becoming stronger. I started having eye contact with the other Gulf guys in my school. I slowly changed my position to backbench still near to my sweetheart.

My Grandfather continued his conversations with me. He talked a lot about Kennedy, Nehru, Patel, and all. He promised that he will take me out during the weekend and ask the barber to give me a Kennedy cut. He called me "Moon face". I started liking him even though I know he won't reciprocate that.

While I was having dinner with my father and brother I shared whatever I heard from my grandfather. My father often corrected some of his views. My brother became more curious, still shy enough to come in front of my grandfather.

Years passed. I entered my teens. Strong enough to beat my brother’s classmates. My grandfather was obsessed with my curiosity. He found someone who will listen to all his Kathi's. My friends respected me because I talked about current events. I called Indira Gandhi “a bitch” and all my friends believed that.

My Grandfather talked a lot about human relations and he told ...never let any friend down when they need you the most. He is sometimes very funny. He accepted me as a grown-up child when I was only 14. He told

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Later on, when I was 14, my Grandfather died of Lung inflammation leaving me with some of his immense knowledge. Still, I respect him more than I like him. My Mother's mother also died of cancer within 2 years leaving me with only my Father’s mother as a grandparent. I still like talking with elder people as they tell things which we otherwise know only when we reach their age.