Vedaraj Thatha - Grandpa memories

The lightning pierced through the sky as if a huge rock was struck by another. I started counting, one missisipi, two mississipi, three missisipi, four ... then roared the thunder! The storm centered about 3 miles away made the trees lining the highway sway vigorously. The dislodged leaves while seeking refuge on my windshield were promptly wiped off by the wiper working hard to give me the vision of the road.
As I gazed upon this scene while handling the steering my thoughts swayed away like the leaves.

Neatly dressed in white dhoti and shirt, side partitioned hair swept from left to right and styled into a mound at the top,  my paternal grandpa (addressed as thatha in Tamil), Vedaraj looked handsome and dignified. Well, I have to deviate from the topic here. As I tried to explain the hairstyle of my grandpa, I was lost for words and I googled quite a bit before discovering 'ivy league' and 'pompadour' hairsyles. I think my grandpa's style falls under one of this category. My dad too styles his hair the same way, the only difference is my grandpa's was white cotton.

It was quite a sight to see my thatha going out anywhere. This well-dressed gentleman would stop at the front gate, holding one edge of his dhoti with his fingers, gracefully scan the road on both directions, once again make sure his appearance was perfect, and then start walking. What a magnific sight it would be!


We were living in Kodaikanal and I remember writing a letter to him when I was in second grade. Getting educated in a matriculation school was indeed a pride those days! I had to write in English to show off my English skills. My dad posted the letter and the merry little me forgot about it, until my grandpa came all the way up the Kodaikanal hills and pinched my ear.

Yes, he came straight with my letter and read it to me. I had written, "It's raining hear". He taught thoroughly about 'here and hear' that day and made me write one page essay. Only then would he let me go. Would I ever forget that lesson! If it was today, I would have tried playing with words saying, "I meant it's raining, can you hear?"  Beyond our grand dad - grand daughter relationship, this word 'hear' and my ear did create a special bond between us. Vedaraj thatha was well-versed in Tamil as well as English. His vocabulary was so extensive that I wouldn't understand all his writings. I think so even today.

Later when we moved to Madurai because of my dad's job and I was in high school, thatha would get egg puffs for evening snacks. Tamilarasi bakery in Goripalayam was famous for egg puffs that thatha would go early, place order and wait to get egg puffs for us. Madurai Tamilarasi bakery and egg puffs became synonymous with thatha for my sisters and I. And I remember how methodically he would fold the yellow cloth bag he used to carry things. Nothing was left imperfect in thatha's hands.

I fondly recollect how he used to be in the St.Mary's cathedral every morning of my tenth grade board exams, praying for his grand daughter. It didn't make much impact in me then, than it did later.

The sweet memories of playing carom, cards, snake and ladder, thayam (a game of dice) etc with thatha and the silly fights my little sister used to have with thatha complaining that he was cheating all passed through my mind, like the leaves hitting my windshield.

Driving with memories of thatha, I calculated the time in India to be early morning of second August. We were all near him twenty five years back this time. Mom and Dad were by his side without sleeping, while my sisters and I were dozing on and off, checking on thatha in between. The day dawned and my dad summoned us to feed thatha spoonful of horlicks which mom had prepared. Thatha had his eyes closed, but he turned his head weakly in response to our calls. Thatha breathed heavily and then it was one sound mimicking a hiccup. Vedaraj thatha passed on to eternity with the Almighty at 6.30 am that day.

It was a day of mourning and prayers with friends and relatives pouring in. Thatha was taken to Our Lady of Lourdes church in Pudur for funeral mass and buried thereafter. The men who carried thatha's coffin out of the house went straight to the waiting van, without a pause at the gate. I was right behind looking at the scattered rose petals. My mom, reminded of thatha's ceremonious ways of leaving the house, later exclaimed that how she wished those men stopped at the gate and went slowly.

That year I was appearing for twelth grade board exams and Vedaraj thatha was not there to pray for me. I sadly thought about it later when the marks were out and I hadn't scored to expectations. I didn't gain any ranking which I had done earlier in tenth grade board exams. I attributed the shortcoming to the absence of my thatha and his prayerful blessings. I did cry for that many days asking thatha why he did that. It might not make sense, but that was a little grand daughter who missed thatha.

My sisters too remember thatha fondly with their set of sweet memories. My little sister remembers how she used to make fun of thatha not beleiving him whenever he said it was raining somewhere looking at the clouds in the sky. She recalls thatha predicting rain by the sight of the clouds.

Though I remember my grandparents often, around their death anniversaries memories bubble up more. It has been all about Vedaraj thatha this past week.

Am fine thatha, it's raining here, hear thatha :) Rest in peace with the Lord. Amen.

I had written this post in Tamil, my mother tongue, and upon request from my friend to translate posting here. Thanks to her for the motivating interest in my writing. Am blessed.