My Achachan - Man with the Silver Hair & Golden Heart

“You can go inside and meet him”, my sister said as she came out of the ICU.

I went near him. He could hardly open his eyes. I touched his hand and smiled at him. He smiled back at me and tried to speak. But he couldn't!

My Grandfather had a stroke and my Grandmother didn't have any idea as to how serious it was. She was telling my aunt that let Grandfather come back home and she will not allow him to do any unnecessary work. She strongly believed that it was just a minor problem.



With heavy heart I slowly followed the ambulance in my car. From the main road, I took a right turn to our home. I could see the black flag placed at the gate and a huge crowd in front of the house. The ambulance stopped in front of me and I sat in my car looking at my relatives carrying the casket out from it.

It struck me hard.  He is no longer with us. 

I burst out crying and my dad consoled me although I knew he too was in a similar state. He was there the whole time when Grandfather was in the hospital. He cared for him like he would for his own Dad.

I went inside the room to check on my Grandmother. I could see a group of people mourning, and in the middle of it all she was hugging my mother and screaming like in pain. My Grandfather and Grandmother had lived together for almost 60 years.  I could not understand their love for each other at that time because I had never been in a serious relationship then.

When we were kids, my Sister and I used to visit our Grandparents during summer vacations. Those were exciting times. We didn’t have smartphones or a lot of TV channels at that time. We used to play as much as we could outside the house with whatever supplies we could get from the nearby fields.

My Grandfather never sat idle. He was always busy with things which made no sense to us then. He woke up at 6 in the morning and then used to wake up everybody else, even if we didn’t have any work whatsoever. After having his morning tea, he would start putting pesticides around the house to kill ants, chewing tobacco, singing devotional songs, planting tapioca, and watering the garden. He would go to sleep at exactly 10 in the night.  He always walked barefoot, wearing a lungi and a turban and always had his Rudraksha mala around his neck.

The sound of him cleaning dirt and sand off of his feet, just before he entered the house after a long day of work, is an unforgettable memory we all cherish.

At tea time, he used to carry me and put me on the dining table and ask about my school, my friends, and much more. I usually made up a lot of interesting stories just to try and impress him. I taught him the song from the movie Thenmavin Kombath, but he would get the tune completely wrong. He would automatically change it into melodious devotional tune instead. Then we sang it loudly, drumming on the dining table.

He would scold us whenever we made mistakes but would forgive and forget about it almost immediately. I can still almost feel his warm hugs and kisses.

The last time I visited our Grandparents house with my Wife, my mom showed her to where he was cremated. As we stood there praying, seeking his blessings, I found myself in tears. I missed him so much on one of the most important days of my life. I looked over at Mom and tears were flowing down her face too.

It has been more than 7 years since he left us now. Yet, whenever we talk about him, all of us go silent and sad – we all still miss him terribly with all our heart.