Shraddha Pradhan
Telling stories is his forte, and he never misses a chance to recall them whenever I ask him about his life. He tells me unbelievable tales of his encounters with tigers in thick jungles and face-to-face meetings with ghosts at midnight. He shares his brave adventures of crossing a roaring river with the help of a rope, just like Tarzan. He often boasts about his past, recounting how he was once the most handsome and sought-after man in his town—so different from his present self, with a wrinkled face and parched lips. He recalls an incident when a girl was madly in love with him. And if I ask him why he is bald, he always jokes that a rat had eaten all his hair, and it would never grow back again. I always listen to him in amazement and believe every single word that comes out of his mouth. Despite his old age, he never ceases to tell his stories, even though I am no longer the small child he raised into a grown-up girl. His deep voice and gestures reveal his seriousness and truthfulness. He always carries at least two pens, reflecting his interest in reading and writing. He is a man of dignity and excellent company.
A few years back, his elder brother came to visit him at our house, and I was taken aback by his different behavior. His chameleon-like character made me a little upset. His sudden transformation from a jolly and talkative person into someone sober and fearful made me understand how much respect he has for his brother. He acted like a typical old-timed sibling, nodding to every word his brother said. After his brother left the next day, he transformed back into his original character—my same old octogenarian grandpa.
My grandpa always appeases others with his old anecdotes. His routine starts with a prayer at 5:30 sharp, before anyone else wakes up in the house. Despite his age, he helps my grandma with her daily chores, and the most amusing part is that he never gets tired. The lesson I learned from my 89-year-old grandpa is to never hurt others’ feelings, keep smiling, never chase money, and always stay healthy!
(This essay was written 13 years ago when the author’s grandfather was still alive. He passed away 6 years ago in her presence.)
