Dear papa ji, happy birthday! Remembering you today and walking down the memory lane.
Often times, Sumit and I talk and share with each other how fortunate we have been to have you and mama as our grandparents. We consider ourselves really blessed.
The love, affection and the values you taught us are our inheritance and we hope we can preserve them and do a good job of passing them along.
I remember how you used to say that I had holes in my hands as I would drop things so often and I would smile. Also, remembering how you used to call me "Gudiya" and the way you said it, instantly told me that you needed water and I would ask, "papa ji, paani?"
Remembering, the pink ink, felt pen, I once gifted you on your birthday and the jokes you wrote with it from Reader's Digest. The image of the large collection of diaries written by you, lined on our dining table, is right in front of my eyes.
When Billy Joel played the mouth organ, when I was at his concert, two night back, I recalled, the mouth organ, you got for us (Sumit and me) and how you would play it for us sometimes too. How you wanted to learn a musical instrument; the Violin, and you went looking for one in the musical instruments shop at Ghanta Ghar.
The shadow hand puppets you made for us when the power was out.
Remembering it all and tearing up as I write this today.
Papa ji, I love you and miss you so much. I hope you are happy and are blessing us from above.
Tight Hug,
Gudiya
Often times, Sumit and I talk and share with each other how fortunate we have been to have you and mama as our grandparents. We consider ourselves really blessed.
The love, affection and the values you taught us are our inheritance and we hope we can preserve them and do a good job of passing them along.
I remember how you used to say that I had holes in my hands as I would drop things so often and I would smile. Also, remembering how you used to call me "Gudiya" and the way you said it, instantly told me that you needed water and I would ask, "papa ji, paani?"
Remembering, the pink ink, felt pen, I once gifted you on your birthday and the jokes you wrote with it from Reader's Digest. The image of the large collection of diaries written by you, lined on our dining table, is right in front of my eyes.
When Billy Joel played the mouth organ, when I was at his concert, two night back, I recalled, the mouth organ, you got for us (Sumit and me) and how you would play it for us sometimes too. How you wanted to learn a musical instrument; the Violin, and you went looking for one in the musical instruments shop at Ghanta Ghar.
The shadow hand puppets you made for us when the power was out.
Remembering it all and tearing up as I write this today.
Papa ji, I love you and miss you so much. I hope you are happy and are blessing us from above.
Tight Hug,
Gudiya