I wish I met my great grandfather…

What would you do if you hear stories about people you never met? People from the past who lived their every breath caring and working for the survival of others. I would definitely write about them to mark my heartfelt gratitude and respect and I guess that is what I am doing right now. I don’t know why but for some deep buried reason, I’ve a thing for people of the past. Old, shriveled and unkempt people of the past who possess vast knowledge about rituals, folk stories and Spiti’s history to feed my voracious appetite for the ancient. Whenever I look at them, I always believe and tell myself that they have great stories curled up in the layers of their wrinkles.

You might find it weird and obsessive but sometimes I wish I was either born earlier or my great-grandfather lived long enough so that I could hear stories of his times, of another dimension of existence when survival was almost an everyday battle to win over. But such wishes will always remain buried as wishes. Nothing less, nothing more. Just yesterday apa was talking about my great grandfather, with his eyes beaming with admiration and respect. I’ve never seen him but can still picture his appearance right in front of my eyes, with the aid of apa’s description. “You know, he had long hair and would make multiple little braids out of them. Lenbu, it is called in our language.” Apawas telling me yesterday.

I can already imagine his long dreadlocks. With the burden of ensuring the existence of apa and his siblings, my great grandfather would have seldom got the chance to let his dreadlocks bask in the sun. Life during his times was very hard. People had very little to eat except tsampa and jenbe, both made out of barley. Agriculture and cultivation of green peas had not progressed then. A morsel of ghee could be considered a luxury because of prevailing financial instabilities back then. Even amidst such precarity, he taught apa and his siblings to read and write bhoti. He took care of them with the shriveling of every inch of his skin. Apa says he did not live long enough since he got shadowed with an illness and died.

Although I’ve never seen my great grandfather, I’ve so much respect for him for giving his blood, sweat and tears for his grand-children. I would have loved to meet him. I guess I should go to meet his reincarnated self who resides in a village in pin valley now haha!