My great grandfather (Kollu thaatha) brought his family from K###. "They say he was a hard worker", my mother tells me while my father and I, chat during breakfast. She remembers the stories the elderly women used to tell her in the early days after she got married to my father. "I always sit with the old ones in family gatherings". "Still, you have paid so much attention that you still remember them" I remark. "I liked chatting with them more than those of my age women". She remembers those stories, often with much more details than my father.
We were remembering my thaatha who passed away during the pandemic in the year 2021. He was mostly a grumpy man, has seen many hardships and struggled to accept happiness.
My mother was on her way to offer food to the crows as a ritual after praying to our ancestors. " Pettu pettu, thaanni pettesi poyi ni panini soodu. Nene esikinenu " I imitate my thaatha while my father imitates his gesture, swaying his hand above his head. Meanwhile we hear my mom calling the crows loudly "Kaaaa kaaaa kaaaa". We laugh at the irony.
My Kollu thaatha, he was a farmer. I continued to ask my mom if he owned a land in K### and what made him decide to move from there. I was wondering if at-least he had led a lesser struggle-some life than my grand father and my father and if so what was he like without the grumpiness of my thaatha and the stoic silence of my abba.
My mom says ; " He had a land he shared with his two brothers. One day there was boundary conflict
Comments
Post a Comment