Remembering My Thatha

January 12, 2024

Remembering My Thatha

On a chilly night in Atlanta, my world took an unexpected turn. At 16, I was shaken awake at 2 AM to a phone call that changed everything. My mother's tears told a story I had never seen—a tale of loss and sadness. My Thatha, my grandfather, had left us due to a sudden heart attack. It was a shock that echoed through our family, leaving us grappling with grief.

Thatha, at 80, was the healthiest person I knew. No sugar, no blood pressure issues—he lived each day like a 50-year-old. His unexpected departure shattered the hope of him reaching a century. As I moved to the USA, excitement turned to sorrow, and the reality of his absence sunk in.

As fate would have it, circumstances unfolded in a way I never anticipated. I found myself far from home, unable to be there for my family during this trying time. Helpless, all I could do was cry, attempting to console my grieving mother and beloved grandmother. My mother, accompanied by his uncle, left for Srirangam, our hometown, to bid the final farewell.

Thatha and I were never close. His infrequent visits were dictated by personal commitments and problems, making him a bit of an enigma. His life's motto echoed in his constant refrain: save money. In his 80 years, joy for him lay in savings, not spending. Even with ample wealth, he adorned a simple, worn shirt with a dhoti. A few days before his passing, he expressed a desire to stay with his family, unaware of our impending move to the USA.

When the news of our relocation reached him, joy turned to worry. Family discussions led to a decision: Thatha would stay in our Chennai home with my grandmother. The plan seemed perfect as I left for the USA, leaving my mother behind to complete work-related formalities. Thatha, excited to join us, returned to Srirangam to prepare for the move. However, fate intervened, and he left us, leaving a void that is hard to comprehend.

My mother, emotionally attached to her father, always admired him despite the challenges. To her, I offer an apology if she reads this. The final rites are yet to be done, and virtually, my dad and I will pay our respects. I admire my mother for her unconditional love towards her father even though he did not enroll my mother in college even though she was a topper.

I'm left without words. Life, as unpredictable as it is short, teaches us to live without regrets and cherish 100 percent happiness. A note to my Thatha, if you're reading from the skies—I'll miss you. I love you for never disturbing anyone and admire your devotion and honesty. With Perumal's will, rest in peace.