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A Loving Grandson

tanak_gra

 

“If I knew grandchildren were so much fun, I would have them first”

 
What could be more close to a grandparent’s heart? An appropriate answer would be a grandchild.  A hurt that still remains fresh and bleeds every moment the little grandson is remembered, deep inside the heart of the elderly there lies an ocean of memories, memories they wouldn’t want to talk about but still love them the most. The emotions and the thoughts of the aged that play a war deep in side there soul, torture them at each and every moment the beloved is remembered. Whom else would I be talking about? The saddened eyes of my grandparents are brightened when they see us, their grandchildren, but soon dull down when they notice that Tanveer is no more standing tall with us. My grandma (paternal) weeps her heart out when ever I even mention his name and my grandpa (paternal) misses the way he use to sit with him share all what was in his heart. It isn’t that his other grandchildren do not share things with him, the feeling of missing some one so dear soon prevails his thoughts while sharing.
 

Remembrance of Pain

 
My grandma remembers Tanveer’s pain that used to awaken him in the late night hours. She often says that her little grandson suffered a lot of pain that a sinner should have suffered; she never understood the reason why God snatched him away from her. The agony in her eyes that reflects the darkest part of the deep sea of pain in side her heart, tells a tale that how much a grandma has suffered who by now should have been watching her beloved Tanveer grow into a tall walking young gentleman.
 
While Tanveer was with grandma, we were residing in a different place. We couldn’t often go to visit him, but could call him, which resulted into my little brother feeling alone and deserted. At that very point of time he was going through chemotherapy due to which his platelets had fallen down in number dramatically with the WBCs (White Blood Corpuscles) also decreasing as fast as the platelets which resulted in low immunity. We were afraid that he might catch some illness much faster than a normal person, so we decided that he must stay with grandparents till we get the floor at our place polished after the removal or carpet and the whole house to be disinfected. But our Tanveer didn’t know of the very facts that there had been many things to be done before getting him back. Moreover, my father had to work day and night, harder and harder to earn more to save his son and our loved one. Tanveer felt lonely and lonelier as the passing day and the consequential damage was straight to his heart. He used to complain to my grandma, “It seems that no body loves me, why doesn’t anyone come to meet me, are they afraid that they would be ill due to cancer too because I am having it?” She couldn’t answer him as she knew it wasn’t the way he was thinking and imaging what the whole thing could be. He cried till the last drop of his tear, but tears never ended for the kin of Sidhu family. The feast of sorrow was so excruciating on his heart that he possibly couldn’t understand the difference between desperation for happiness, his illness and the grievances of his parents. He only wanted someone to talk to and share his inner most feelings and heavy burdens of sad thoughts which persisted due to his illness.
 
Apart from his feelings there are many more aspects that were uncovered later after Tanveer passed away. He often used to tell grandma, that he would make cars when he would grow which, he would love to design and built it too. He had posters of cars in his room at our grandparents’ place that are still stuck to the wall as my grandma believes that he is still somewhere around her and that she didn’t want to let go the memories that were so closely related to her little Tanveer. We all love what grandmas’ cook, so he did too. He used to love the way grandma would cook.
 
French fries, fried cashew nuts, bread with home made cream flavored with black pepper, onion and tomatoes. Always, sandwiches in the breakfast, tasty and creamy sandwiches. When ever I would go there for a visit or to spend my weekends he would stuff me also with the tasty stuff she made. She would make famous paratha family over which were stuffed with potatoes with a little bit of cream (home made), and the breakfast was super rich in taste and some enjoyment. After finishing one, he used to ask grandma, “if you don’t mind could you make one more for me?” to which grandma would reply and ask at the same time, “of course I would be happy to make one for you, do you want me to make two in case you find it very tasty?”he would often answer her with abruptness, “No, I prefer that you please make one as you will be very tired if you stand and make some more just for me.” She never said anything, but enjoyed the way the little gentleman was growing. He asked her to plant a litchi tree, the fruit he loved. She fulfilled his wish but only after her little beloved grandson was no more, no more to ask her for stuffed parathas, those hugs for him and even make him sleep. She used to sleep close to his bed as he could need care at any time due to his treatment which was also carried out along. Once as she recalls, she had Tanveer’s dream after Tanveer passed, he came with other young boy hugged her tightly and went away, he said something but she couldn’t hear what. She saddens on the thought that why he isn’t visiting the world of her dreams quite often. She says that her child is still there in her heart deep inside, remembers and misses him each moment of the day rather each moment of her life, then why is it so that he does not come to visit her? Her heart is still bristled with the questions that are all unanswered and she hopes that some day she’ll find the answer to these questions of hers. She wishes till now that her Tanveer be back breaking all the laws of the nature. She knew it was not meant to happen. She is a mother and loosing her grandchild is the loss that is immeasurable. The consolation does not help her broken heart. After two months past Tanveer’s death I visited our grandma. As I remember she was in the kitchen when we reached there. I called out to her. I do not know what went into me. She came out running gasping for breath, her eyes wide open. But soon that excitement vanished and she realized that it wasn’t Tanveer, it was me. I sounded like her little Tanveer. Her eyes had painful misery to tell. I hugged her but couldn’t do a thing to pacify her tears and her feelings.
 

The love of Grandparents

 
Our little beloved Tanveer was loved by all. Especially by the grandmas’ and the grandpas’ of the family, he used to get pampered, and to an extent that pampering would spoil him a bit. Though he spent not much time with maternal grandparents but the immanence of love in between them was magnified into being immeasurable. Says who that love is not evolutionary? Since the time Tanveer expired, there attachment and love for there grandson has become unbreakable and eternal. They never knew each other’s language, but the language they spoke was of love, not just love, the love that exists between a grandson and a grandmother. They spoke with hugs, sweet smiles and actions. He used to help grandma in her kitchen work. One day I saw Tanveer cutting onions. It was a dead surprise for me as Tanveer had never stepped in the kitchen before, but the love for his grandma had changed him. At that point of time we were not aware of his illness. It seemed as if heaven had come down on the earth in search of us who were oblivious of the fact that it was just a mirage. She seemed so happy when ever Tanveer would come to help her in the kitchen. He always managed to make a special entry in the kitchen every time he entered. With a big hug specially warmed for his beloved grandma. Our grandma is a practitioner in the field of gynaecology. Tanveer always had his nose high up in the air that his grandma was a doctor. She often use to take him to her work, which both used to enjoy, not that Tanveer was more interested in the medical field, the compliments were the main reason behind it. The ladies and the gentlemen working with her always complimented that both grandson and grandmother looked a like and that Tanveer looked very cute when he tried to speak Russian with his grandmother. I remember the way they used to converse with each other. Just few words in his vocabulary which were,’ eto (this); teibya (you); ya (I); tei (you); priviet (hello); zdrast weitsya (hello for a elderly),’ and the most important, “Ya lublu teibya (I love you).”But his vocabulary of love was overflowing…   She often used to tell our mother that how much she enjoyed hearing the compliments. Her contagious excitement would hit our mother too and both used to sit and talk about how people would compliment them. It did wonders to my ears too when my mother translated it to me.
 
He loved what his ‘baabushka’ (grandma) cooked for him. He loved all the Russian dishes she made like pilmainee, borsh etc. He loved the way she made cakes for him and everyone else of course use to join in later after she used to offer Tanveer one piece. We all love what grandmas cook as the food they cook is with abundance of their love and affection. But the reminiscing play of her thoughts does not let her breath evenly in her life. None of us want to live in past. We often say, “Forget the past, shut the future and live in the present.” But if some one made an endeavour to ask the person who has lived a painful past and the one who has lost the beloved, the reality of life, its naked truths and if he or she could ever forget the past. You would be answered in no time. The answer of an old lady who has just heard of the news that her beloved child breaths no more would be nothing more than a heart ripped into pieces and eyes full of tears and questions.
 
Our great grandma misses our little Tanveer, she is an elderly lady and she cries over the fact that Tanveer is no more, and that he is never gong to visit her again and call out to her with his sweet voice. She loved his personality, his looks and his behaviour; it is but obvious that grandma will feel this way for her child after all she is everyone’s mother in the family. Her questions; “Why is it that sometimes things happen in a reverse order, I know I have to go one day, am prepared and that my little grandchildren and great grandchildren will be on my funeral, but here I have to hear about my child’s demise, why is it so?” How do you think you would be able to answer her question without hurting our elderly great grand ma? You can not, in fact none of us can because the loss that is such that it can not be regained or even restored. Both the grand mothers maternal and paternal including our great grand mother live in a state that some day they will find there answers and find their Tanveer, though they know that they can not but still this ray of hope that some day they will meet their Tanveer provides them an energy to live forth.      
 

Grandfather's Third Hand 

 
Tanveer shared more mechanical and rational thought with grandpa (paternal) rather than sharing some unexplained emotional thought. Grandpa and Tanveer always had the collision of thoughts; Tanveer always thought the other way round of what grandpa thought and never even dared to budge from his way of thinking, but when both grandson and grandpa worked on something together, it did wonders to our visual and emotional feelings. Sometimes they both used to sit together, take a plate and would put all sorts of nuts and bolts stored in a bottle. Both of them would select what they wanted and get stuck to the work. Grandpa recalls the time when Tanveer solved the problem of CPU, a very important unit which is essential to operate the computers himself. He calls Tanveer the most intelligent boy he had ever seen and one of the most sensitive young gentlemen of the age of Tanveer. One aspect I never knew about Tanveer was that he was a big devotee to god. It gave me sweet shock, that a boy so young and immature who once didn’t have time for himself being busy in playing even while at places like gurudwara, temple or church could transform into a boy who was mature and who was instead of being religious had become spiritual. Heeven had a bandana which was from a famous Indian temple and a heritage located in northern side of Jammu which is named as Vaishnu Devi; a person who prayed for the well being of our little Tanveer had brought this as a token of love and good wishes. Tanveer tied it to his cupboard which still hangs there. The abundance of pain led him to this pure path which one must chose in his orher life time. Often said by the elder,that, “A diamond cannot be polished with out friction, nor a man perfected without trails.”
 
One big difference was the food habits. Grandpa preferred that the family members must sit together on the dining table for breakfast, lunch or dinner; what he meant was that it increases love and makes the family member equal whereas Tanveer loved watching cartoon while eating. When ever grandpa would ask him to sit with them and have food and tell him that love increases if we would sit together; this statement would irritate the young hearted to which he would often reply, “How would you love grandma that you both fight?” As he used to see both of them quarrel sometimes, but the little boy didn’t realize the importance of family members sitting together for food and that every couple on this existing materialized earth did quarrel at least once a half month if not more. Children will always be children; they may not understand the true facts of life and other various aspects of a relation. Tanveer was as innocent as the other children may be and our grandpa loved his innocence which was beautified by the knowledge he was endowed with.
 
He spent most of the time in mechanics with both the grandfathers; maternal and paternal. Being an ambitious little boy who wanted to be an engineer loved his favourite hide out which was obviously my grandpas’ garage. The same story was with our maternal grandpa as with our maternal grandma. Both talked the language of love and signs like hug and smiles. The situation to me is so mystified yet loved; I am unanswered of the question that how three of them managed with the language of love alone.
 
Previously I mentioned that the last letter which was written by Tanveer as a New Year greeting, which was sent to our grandparents (maternal), had reached them after Tanveer had expired. As their hope was crashed due to Tanveer’s demise, they prefer not to pick the topic of their little grandson, but the letter that reached them, was filled with the words which reflected his emotions. It is of course very sad when a child loose one of its parents but it is even more agonising when a father has to attend the funeral of his son or if a grandfather has to bury or light the funeral pier of his ascendant or the beloved child who is akin to his family.