Dear Papa...

Hey Papa,

Remember that time when we used to take boat rides to Fort Cochin with the excuse of buying bread and then loiter around in the hot blazing sun and end our little trip with puffs from Elite bakery? And what about that time when you suddenly developed hearing difficulties and had to go to Uncle Ben, only to find out that your ailments were a result of me stuffing rose petals into your ears while you were asleep on the easy-chair in the veranda?

Remember how every other Sunday we used to sweep and swab the house (your father house where you once told me you wanted to be buried?) and after we were done you’d bring out the guitar and serenade me as I’d stand on the table and sing loud and disturb all the neighbours?

Remember how we used to play badminton in the front yard because Nana wouldn’t let me leave the house for fear of someone kidnapping me? (*rolls eyes*). You were horrible at badminton, I mean, once you tried to serve and swung  your foot with so much force (for what joy I don’t know)  that your slipper went flying and got stuck in the olive tree.

Remember that time when you scared the life out Nana and Alu after you enacted a scene from the ‘Living Dead’ after coming home drunk and falling in the gutter and just lying there and flailing your arms and legs in the dark till someone showed up? Remember that time you caught Ryan trying to kill your beloved dog Puppy and then blamed Robert for it? Remember all those trips you used to make to Yercaud with Natty and going with her to her coaching classes and thereafter for Masala Dosa? Remember all of us sitting together in the hall in Rose Villa around the table while Nana played solitaire and you told us stories we’ve all heard a million times before (but somehow the details always changed) and Alu would do a spot on impersonation of you and we’d laugh till our stomachs hurt and our eyes watered.

I remember. I remember this and million other stories. A million memories that seemed to come rushing back all of a sudden today. Memories of a childhood made so much more special because of you. It’s just my luck that I got to spend all those years with you. Most kids spent their time out playing in the church yard with their friends, but I got to stay at home thanks to Nana’s heightened sense of over-protectiveness and though back then I used to sulk about it, today I am eternally grateful because I got to be with you.

You have played such an immense role in my life. You were not just my grandfather, you were also my friend, my enabler, my provider of love, affection and an endless supply of bakery and confectionery items (butter beans, puffs and tea biscuits), the man who told me to work hard and chase my dreams but also to enjoy life, the man who taught me how to sing and made me fall in love with music; you ARE my idol. There’s so much I want to say, so much I want to tell people about you, but how do I  sum up a lifetime worth of memories and a lifetime worth of knowing the incredible human being that you are? Thank you for the love and laughter and good times and bad times and more love and laughter and lots and lots of good music. Thank you for being my Papa.

Nana had this theory that you wouldn’t die even if she ‘hit and killed you’ (I can hear you laughing right now!) How I wish that were true, but just as the universe gave you to me, so too it has taken you away. You were a man who hated being confined to the house, let alone be bed-ridden and I know what has happened has happened for the best. I think your other grandchildren will agree with me when I say that you’ve been ‘Returned to Sender’.

Your departure still doesn’t seem real to me. Maybe I will never fully accept that you’re gone. Maybe you’re just at your brother Robert’s house eating potato cutlets and having a drink as Vitty and Elsie roll their eyes at your inappropriate conversations. Maybe you’re back at Elite again eating puffs rather than buying the things Nana sent you to buy. Maybe you’re in your best friend Joe Isaac’s house having a good sing song with him and Uncle Alfie. Or maybe you’re just sitting there in the dining room at Rose Villa sipping your watery tea. Either way, I know I’ll be seeing you soon but until then you shall live forever in my heart and in my memories.

Love you forever,

This 'Small Bleddy Rascal'.