My Grandfather

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players,
They have their exit and entrance,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His act being seven ages...

Albeit of the fact that I don't have much knowledge of my grandfather's first 5 stages but I have seen him going through his last 2 stages of life.
When I was an infant, mewling and puking. He was already on the last step of 'The Justice'(5th stage) with a beard of formal cut, full of wise saws and modern instances. (Although he never had a fair round belly).
The stage that I have known him through the most, was when I was a whining child creeping like a snail. Unwilling to go to school, then my grandfather was the one to drop me to school. In his sixth stage, lean with slippers pantaloons and spectacles on nose.
I remember as a child I used to have severe ulcerations (I used to cry a lot) and he paced carrying me for hours.

As the time flew by and I entered into an age of a sighed lover distant and separated, busy in my own woeful ballad.
He too grew distant and a little quieter with the loss of his life companion (after 51 years of marriage).
He never complained, never shared, never said a word to anyone about his solitude.
But always after waking up in the morning, the first thing he did was to wipe dirt off my grandmother's portrait watered the plant next to her picture. And he also stopped eating mangoes, they were my grandmother's favorite (Maybe this was his way with no flowers, no cards of telling, that how much he misses her).

Now, I had entered the age of a soldier, off to my college, ready to fight the battle of life.
Time also snuck up on him, without anybody's notice. Crisscross wrinkles grew a little more on his tanned brown skin, spectacles too increased their slide on his nose and his once manly voice turned treble and a little childish.
This was also the time we hardly talked. I was busy in my own world and worries. But when I was back at home on holidays, there didn't pass a single day when didn't bring anything from his daily stroll from a temple. I had never asked him and he had never forgotten.

And when I was back home after 4 years he had already entered into his 7th stage. The last scene of all 'san teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything'. Into his second childhood now he needed the love and care.

And then with the end of last scene curtains dropped.
It's almost been a year since we had lost him.
I sometimes wish that he was here because no matter how old I was, spending time with him always brought back my pampered childhood I once again became their 'Kashmir ki Kali'.
But now, he is gone and I could nothing apart from putting his picture on the wall but may be some of you still have a chance.
That's all I had to say...
"Happy Birthday Baba"