Remembering Valiadaddy

I didn't fear my parents growing up, but I did have reverent fear for Valiadaddy, my maternal grandfather.

He was the official "hand-holder" at all my birthday celebrations that involved a cake.

He is the one who taught me, by example, to love dogs.

When my myna bird - Mittoo - died, I cried a lot. Valiadaddy brought me a parrot - Kuttoo - to make me happy again.

I've been a picky eater all my life. I've had a phase where I would only eat a specific type of fish, a phase where I would only eat dry fish, a phase where I ate a minimum of 6 Marie gold biscuits (and no other biscuit) with my evening tea. Valiadaddy has always made sure that he made these available to me.

What's more, whenever he and Valiamummy would return from a visit to Kerala, they would bring the brown halwa for the rest of the family and red-coloured halwa, exclusively for me.

He loved birds and fish and he devoted several hours a day to take care of them, setting an example for true passion.

He was the grandfather who proudly said he had five granddaughters (until Appu came along). As children, we saw more of his strict exterior. But now, growing up and looking back, we are able to see the love behind everything he did for us.

Although he was the eldest in the family, he would be full of child-like excitement whenever we accompanied him to his hometown. He would always buy us pazhampori and pink coloured candy, hail us to the front gate whenever there was an elephant walking past the house, and excitedly point to the school where he and Valiamummy studied every time we were in the vicinity!

Going to Kerala this time, without him, felt strange. But I found myself pointing out to all of the things he would have loved to show us if he were there with us.  And I think it was, indeed, a great way to remember him and introduce my husband, Arpit Haldar, to the land of my Valiadaddy.