An ode to 'Him'

Life is a long long journey.Snaking through the years,we meet so many people at each bend.
So many people sashaying in and out of our lives:some are company only till the next.
Some are road blocks,while some leave an indelible imprint.

Like He did.

He was one of the finest friends one could ever have.

I was lucky to have him.

A charmer in the truest sense of the word.

No wonder he had so many friends.A social butterfly.ALWAYS surrounded by people. 

I admit I was a little jealous of his persona.When he walked,heads turned.

That reminds me: I loved walking with him.
The walks at dawn:He woke me up at 5.30,while I grumbled.He seemed to enjoy seeing me crib and make faces at the daunting thought of waking up early.
We had walks at dusk too:Gurudwara trips at dusk.
Our typical conversations on the way would be: 

1. Philosophy :He heard,I spoke.
2. Career advise: I heard,he spoke.

3. Nature observation: No one spoke,as we both reveled in this beautiful 'our' time.

Opposites attract they say.

We were opposites.He was mature,with deep rooted ideals and beliefs.

I was a teen:with volatile and conflicting thoughts.

He was painfully patient and I was irksomely restless.He loved sitting under the winter sun,while I pranced about like a little monkey filling him in with all the tiny details of my day.

I loved plucking raw mangoes from his neighbour's garden much to his wrath,but he seldom yelled.

He retorted with a silent treatment,making me hang my head in shame while he apologized on my behalf.

Did we argue?Of course we did.
We had our share of fights.I never initiated patch-ups.
I was too stubborn and he was too humble.
He followed me everywhere,never stopping till we patched up.

He had a way with words.The story teller that he was!

Always keeping me enthralled to his tales.
I adored him.
Maybe because he always made me feel important,valued,worthwhile and special.
Maybe because he was not just nice to me but a nice person.Nice to the gardener.Nice to the watchman.
Nice to the rickshaw-wallah.

I was so enamoured by him I wrote him a poem and he framed and hung it in his bedroom.
I am sure he felt happy too with me around,why else would he introduce me to his friends with an air of pride?

There was so much to learn from him.

Humility. 

Patience.

Honesty.

Perseverance.

I remember him always doing his work on his own.

We could discuss anything: politics,current affairs,philosophy,religion.

A frank and unbiased critic:He reviewed my poems,never giving me a ten on ten,lest my head swells with an 'I-am-the-best' thought.

An inspiration himself,he always told me that learning is an ongoing,never ending process.

A person's decent starts the day he feels he's learnt it all.

Mum adored him too.

Even though he always stood in front of me,protecting me from her towering anger.

While I hid timidly behind him.He was a life saver.

And then one day:It was a week since i spoke with him.

I woke in the morning wanting to ask mom if he had called to talk to me. 

She seemed upset.

Something wasn't right.Then she broke the news to me.

It hit me hard.

He was no more and life wasn't the same anymore.

Because he was not only my friend,my critic and my mentor,

but also my granddad.

Thank You for a number of things: Some said,some left unsaid.

The 1st edition Gitanjali gifted by you.

All the teeny weeny bits of advice.

The TOP-SECRET Golgappa treats.

Not dampening my enthusiasm of sailing paper boats in the tiny brook.

Teaching me not just how to help myself but also to be of some help to others.

Believing in me and never losing faith.

Being with me eternally.

-Your Ms. World

This post is written for the #Madeforgreat contest sponsored by Tata Motors and hosted by Indiblogger.