An open letter to my darling late Grandfather!
Hari Om! I bet the whole city remembers how you greeted people while going to the temple every morning for the last two decades. Same old school routine like a monk! Waking up early at the crack of dawn, bathing while humming that holy chant about Gangas and other rivers and how you were grateful to be breathing in this air every day, then wake the whole house with your spiritual bells and holy chants. In that saffron dhoti and golden or sometimes white kurta with a matching saffron shawl wrapped around your neck, how can I miss that huge U-shaped chandan tilak on your forehead and that grey beard and mustache! I am still waiting for you with your favorite malai-chai at your spot. his usual spot in the house . When I learned that you were gone, You were in ICU for 15 days then. I was in quarantine far-far away from you. For another few hours, my brain couldn't register this information. I went numb! Incapable of taking any action, for the first time
