......till the day he died.
This is an ode to the man whom I used to call my dadaji (grandpa). A month back he left us forever. He was 87, but had the spirit of a young man till the very end. He lived a full life and died a peaceful death.
Here are a few glimpses from his life and his last days with us...
His daily pooja...no matter what he would never break his routine of his daily prayer...
In the last days he had become physically very weak...so could not go out for strolls in the evening...so rather than doing nothing about it, he found a way out ~ he would sit in the parking area of the building every evening. Sitting there, he would chat with the people of the society he knew, reflect, have some fresh air and then come back as it would begin to get dark. Every evening as I would return from work, he would be sitting there, and wave at me. Now, as I return from work, I know that he would never be there with his smile and his wave.
A whole life lived, things collected and cherished...
But when it is time to go, you leave behind everything as your memory for your loved ones...
His whole world was in his cupboard...everthing from a safety pin to medicines to clothes to calender...everything that he would need in his daily life was there, neatly arranged in his cupboard.
Dadaji, the emptiness created by your absence will never be filled... But you will keep on living in our hearts always...
