22/100: My (maternal) grandfather. Everytime I watch cricket, I am reminded of his love and passion for the game. He used to be a stylish wicket-keeper batsman himself. He taught me how to make a batsman’s wagon wheel, much before Channel 9’s graphics did. He drew the various fielding positions as he spoke of the importance of a solid slip cordon. Knowing him, I don’t think he would’ve enjoyed IPL very much! His interest in photography is legendary. He has probably taken the maximum number of selfies with his trusty Agfa even before ‘selfie’ became a word. He was a man of humour, a Wodehouse by his side ever so often; whether it was a smutty joke or a riddle, he had one for every occasion. His thirst for knowledge was evident in the encyclopaedias and reference books he collected, many of them bought through the various Reader’s Digest schemes. His name was embossed on the first page of every book. The World of Wonder, Lands and Peoples…these were part of daily conversation. He loved to be behind the wheel of a car the most. I remember the day he sat me next to him on the culvert outside our house and spoke to me about his road trips and the names of all the cars he owned. He taught me A for Austin, B for Buick, C for Chevy! And his handwriting? Oh! The old-school cursive at it best. I still have the card he wrote to me on my 1st birthday. His love for a simple, happy life was infectious. One could never be glum in his company. He was everything you could ask for in a Thatha!

When he passed away on May 4th, 1990, I was devastated. I was only 8 years old. I had just met him in the hospital the previous day where he laughed and talked to everyone. He was meant to be moved from the ICU to the ward the next morning but he had a massive cardiac arrest he couldn’t survive. I couldn’t bear to hear the fact that the man who was so full of life was not around anymore. It took me many many years to overcome the loss. Since then, not a day has passed that I don’t think of him. I have so dearly wished for him to be with me during my tough and happy times. I have pined for his conversations, advice and wisdom.
On May 2nd, 2011, my gynaecologist gave me an ultimatum. “There’s no point in waiting anymore. You’re over-term. The baby isn’t going to budge. So should we schedule the C-section for tomorrow or day-after?” And I knew almost immediately that it had to be on May 4th. At 8.58 am, out came a baby boy of 2.8 kgs. He turned 4 yesterday; I wore this light Kanjeevaram silk that my mom gifted me during the 7th month of my pregnancy and took him out for lunch.

I don’t know if there is such a thing as rebirth or guardian angels. But when life throws you these strange coincidences, you want to wonder just a little harder!