A Heart Full of Memories: Missing the real Magician of my life

(A tribute to My Grandpa)

When I think of family, what immediately comes to mind are feelings of love, support, and comfort. Growing up in a joint family until middle school, I was lucky enough to experience all of this and more. My family included my parents, two siblings, my uncle, aunt, cousins, grandma, and most importantly, my beloved grandpa—who was, without a doubt, my favorite.

Grandpa was more than just a guardian; he was my teacher, guide, and partner in many adventures. He taught me how to make paper boats and planes, introduced me to the world of numbers and tables, and shared stories about Hindu mythology and Mughal history. But the most special thing about him was the way he filled our home with sweets and snacks. Every day after school, we would run to him—screaming with excitement—and he would laugh and say, “Oh ho, shant bhi raha kro tum log!” That memory still makes me smile.

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I’ll never forget the time I got an assignment to draw a wild animal and a domestic animal. Drawing wasn’t my strong suit back then, so I ended up drawing a cat with two legs and a tail so long it resembled a raccoon. As for the giraffe… let’s just say it looked more like a malnourished cat. But Grandpa, with his artistic skills, came to my rescue.  He took that moment to teach me the basics of drawing, introducing me to the magical world of art and craft, something that has stayed with me ever since.

Grandpa was also a movie buff—he never missed a Mithun Chakraborty action flick. He’d sit with us and enjoy all the TV serials of the time, from Ramayana to evryone's favorite CID. And His love for food was just as passionate; he could devour a bowl of Maggi or rajma chawal with the same enthusiasm. But if paneer was on the menu, it was a true celebration for him.

Despite his indulgent side, Grandpa was incredibly disciplined. He woke up early every morning for yoga, followed by a walk to the temple. His lifestyle reflected balance and mindfulness, something I admire now more than ever.

Now that he’s no longer here, these memories flood my heart with both warmth and an overwhelming sense of longing. I miss him terribly—his wisdom, his laughter, his gentle corrections, and his love that surrounded us like a blanket. He wasn’t just my grandpa; he was the artist who painted my childhood with joy, sweets, and endless love.

It’s in these small, sweet moments that I find myself missing him most, holding onto every story, every lesson, and every moment he shared with me.