365 Days.

It's been a year since the last talk,
A year since you fed the cows in the morn,
A year since we had our last walk,
A year since you fed me butter wala corn,
A year since you teased Granny as a routine,
A year since you ate oily disgusting potato chips,
A year since you gulped zillions of calcium and protein,
A year since you asked me GK riddles,
A year since you stared unblinkingly at Deepika Padukone,
A year since you were as fit as a fiddle,
A year since you fed me chocolate cones.

A year since you put up with my tantrums,
A year since you made every pain seem mild,
A year since you cheered up when I was glum,
A year since you played with your great grand child,
A year since you followed politics diligently,
A year since you discussed the future of Indian cricket with me,
A year since you flirted with Granny in front of us shamelessly,
A year since you smiled that last smile with so much glee.

I wished you Happy Independance Day when I last talked to you.

Was it a coincidence that it turned out to be the last thing I ever said to you?

Each day since then, about you, I always ponder,

It's true, absence makes the heart grow fonder.

P.S- Some newbies might not get it, so have to clarify, I guess. This post is a dedication to my grandpa who passed away a year ago. My grandmom is still alive, FYI. And yes I'm okay, just thought I should write something about him.

Realization.

It's only after something really drastic happens that you realize who is important in your life and in who's life you are actually important.

It's been 14 days since my grandfather passed away and I admit I'm still not over it. I don't think anyone in my family is over it too. Fortunately, I haven't been avoiding studies or messing up my college activities because of the mourning. Studying helped in distracting me. At least my C.G.P.A might finally increase.

What really hurt was the behaviour of the people around me. People who I considered as my close friends, who I thought knew me in and out, didn't actually know Madhuri Iyer. It hurt when outsiders found my grandfather's death funny and made some crude remarks.I have a policy in my Sense of Humour Act, 2009 that jokes on funerals are strictly prohibited. People haven't seen me like this and yeah it's depressing to be depressing and see depressing faces around always, I understand.But it hurts double when your own people don't understand what you are feeling and don't bother.



But what pisses me off is that it's perfectly alright if people crib about their problems which are like, nothing in front of death. Boy problems and rubbish is more important, it seems. I'm not expecting sympathy and any talk that "Hey, look up there, grandpa is watching you, don't cry". I'm just expecting some sensible moments of peace around me. I lost someone, and I'm not asking everyone around me to tell me to cheer up or some crap. But they expect their problems to be more severe than this. There has been not a single soul to whom I can openly crib, be upset over and share what I'm actually feeling.

It's all about adjusting. All my life I've adjusted to all my friends, family etc. My ego had to be crushed in the mud to meet the demands of others. And whenever there's a fight, it's me who has to apologize even if it's not my fault. Whenever I want to do something or go somewhere, it never happens. If I'm not well, it's perfectly okay. If others aren't well, I have to pamper and be all nice to them. Still, I'm termed selfish. I'm termed bitchy. And this is despite me adjusting to others always. I do listen to others when they are sad, rude, pissed, happy any damn emotion. So why isn't anyone around when I need them? Doesn't sacrificing everything mean friendship? I have as big an ego as others have. But I can't ever be egoistic and avoid my friends just because we have fought or don't bother when my friend is sad. Now it seems I never had any self-esteem. I force myself to change, I tell myself to be strong and be cold to others when they are cold to me, but I just can't do it.

When will the time come when I get to do something which I want and which makes me feel happy? When will the time come when someone understands how I'm feeling without me telling them? I'm not asking for a boyfriend. I'm just asking for a friend who knows me inside out and is with me always to share my happiness as well as sorrow?

P.S- I'm not hinting at school/college/blogger friends over here. As for whom I'm hinting at, it's none of your business.
I know, it's a long post. Let me crib at least on my blog space.

Gone.

It's ironical that my last post was titled 'Wake up Mads' where I cribbed about needing a Wake up call to get on with my life, and something did happened to wake me up. My grandfather passed away on 23rd August. Yes, he was 86 years young, but still he didn't really have any health problems; it was unexpected. He behaved like a teenager, his latest crush being Deepika Padukone (Why? Why? What did I do to that female in my last birth that she is being all mean to me this time around? First she steals my Dhoni, then my Ranbir, then my grandpa too!!! :O)

My grandpa got up at 5 in the morning to see whether Obama became the President of USA or not. He felt sorry for each and every beggar on the street and gave them money. He fed cows in the mornings on the way for his morning walks. He ate, drank, slept sports. Something which he forced into me, and I am forever indebted to him for that. He taught me and my sis to play badminton. He spoilt me like crazy since I'm the youngest grandkid. He used to predict the results of cricket matches, politics etc. (He predicted on the day of the finals that India would win by 5 runs :O) He felt sorry for each and every poor man. I mean he was real. No fakeness. So benevolent in such times where everyone is cruel in some way or the other.
He used to watch AXN and switch channels when we kids entered the room. Me and my sis used to call my grandparents up every Sunday and my grandpa used to ask us general knowledge questions and ask stupid jokes like: Q. How will you stir tea, with your right hand or left hand? A. With a spoon :P



Astonished me by using the word sexy once :O He used to comb my hair when I was small and my grandmom used to tie it with a rubber band; only to discover that both the ponies were lopsided :P
I went to their apartments in Chennai (my grandmom's health is not okay and she can't live alone in their place now so she lives with my aunt) for the last time before it was cleared out, right after the funeral. I found out all the questions he had written down neatly and carefully for us along with some jokes (one was about a bald man and in brackets, he had written 'takla'...Lol :D) He had preserved all the pics of us grandkids so carefully.

This post is never going to end. My grandmom and he taught us grandkids (my cousins, my sis and me) so much that whatever 4 of us are today, it's only because of them. We were/are closer to them than our how close we are to our own parents.

Losing someone who brought me and my cousins up is not at all easy. Life's changed after that dreadful Ganesh Chaturthi (at least my grandpa went away on a festival which belonged to his favourite God :D) For obvious reasons, I have not been able to read your blogs. Will get back whenever I can.