My Appa and Aaji…

Today, I don’t know why since morning I have been thinking about my Appa and Aaji. Still, that’s a good enough reason to write a little bit about them. Sitting here, thinking about them, early memories that I have, part of which I remember because of the nostalgic moments reminded by near ones.

Well, the house near Perugate, where they lived for a couple of years holds a prominent place in my early memories. I’m told that I was a pet of my grandparents. Though I might falsely deny it but secretly I’m proud of that especially when I remember being favoured in comparison to my brother and other cousins. Till date my cousins must hate me for that….but kya kare?!!!

Often, my cousins had to bare the brunt of my grandma even though many a times it was my mistake. I’m told, when in kindergarten Aaji would come to school to pick me up. She had strict instructions (you can guess from whom) to wear her best sarees when she would come to pick me up. If that was not enough, she had to carry my bag and I would aaramse walk like a maharani behind her (Honestly, I’m so ashamed of that now)

I still remember the taste of the ‘policha ladu’ that she use to make for lunch. That was my favourite and didn’t like anything else for lunch. Till date no one else has been able to beat the taste of something as simple as the policha ladu that Aaji made. And her unique way of making fish - She didn’t eat or like the smell of fish but she would still make it just because everyone loved it.

And in Aaji’s absence Appa was always there. As a child whenever I did something wrong he was the only person who would rescue me from my parents scolding. He was the one who helped me with my mathematics and Sanskrit in school (believe you me it was a tough task to make me understand). He was the one who got me sweets or salted peanuts from the downstairs shop at Perugate at any hour of the day.

For Appa, everything had to be perfect. While writing or while teaching us mathematics even the rough work he did never looked like rough work. He had the neatest handwriting I have ever seen. Appa was never late for anything. He was so ahead of his times. Even in his 80’s he was much more broad-minded than any of his grandchildren. If anyone of us had to ever confess anything, which we knew would land us in trouble, Appa was always our saviour. No one had ever seen Appa scolding anyone of us in spite of the brats we were.

All my descriptions above make me sound as a spoilt child but kya kare….that was Appa Aaji for us. Everything I said up till now is true not just to me but also to my brother and all my cousins.

When in standard VII, my Aaji expired after a long illness, where she bed-ridden for long period. Few years later Appa expired in the same manner. I’m sure they both would be glad to know that our memories of them are not about the time when they were ill but of the wonderful life they led and the valuable role they played in our lives.

Whatever I said until now may be all about me and the way I associated with them and the way I understood them. Well, I was not writing about them but my memories of my Appa and Aaji…