A Paper Trail

 A Paper Trail 

 Today is Bauji's birthday. Bauji was my maternal grandfather. I wonder how old he would have been today. If I were to calculate and take a guess, I'd say 124 years old.

Bauji was a quiet man, always with a book in hand, reading. He spoke very little, but he wrote a lot. When not reading, he was writing, mainly in English. He was a book guy, and I'm more of a shorter reading material girl, most of the time. He could read the same book over and over and over, just like my daughter and my son. Also, just like my children, when he was reading, Bauji was in good company, and he chuckled and laughed, and of-course, sometimes fell silent. There were times his eyes glowed and his voice softened, as he read aloud, savoring each sentence like it was a goodbye to his beloved, and he was holding her hand longer and speaking slower, to let each word sink in as he stretched the moment for as long as he could. For love like that, to be loved like that, I wish I could be a book in my grandfather's hands. 

So much like my daughter, Bauji had his favorites. This realization just came to me as I started to write this; that the paper trail stretches from my grandfather to his great-grandchildren, my children. While my daughter will ask me to read passages from a book she's enjoying at the given movement, my son gives me the book and will later check with me if I've read it till I do. 

One difference between Bauji and my children is that he wasn't a hoarder of books, at least not when I knew him. He favored the library and would check out a book repeatedly if he fancied it, and his one favorite book was an Urdu novel titled "Naheed." We heard that story often, and he regaled us with passages from it, I think with more enjoyment himself. Yes, he enjoyed romances! 

On the other hand, my children love to buy books, and we have a proper dedicated library room at home. My son's books will fill one bookshelf, I think. My daughter's books, however, will spill from her personal library room into her bedroom, and those she can spare, I sneak into my library. She arranges all the books correctly, as she learned at her first volunteering position in her high school library. My daughter has several; read 5-6-7 copies of a single book if she really likes it. There will be first editions, ARC copies, hardcover editions, paperback, signed copies, and sometimes more than one signed copy.

If there was one thing I could find out about my genealogy, it would be to know where this love for books and education started. Also, how come these folk were so industrious?  

My mother was also fond of writing and maintained a journal, which became more regular after she retired from working. She occasionally wrote, not just for her journals, but also published her writings in senior citizen magazines, and wrote at least one article for the Deccan Herald. Deccan Herald also interviewed her for a piece on self-care and disease prevention through nutrition.

I think that explains my love for the written/ printed word, and my love for every scrap of paper that crosses my path. It is a huge cause of frustration for my family, because I find it hard to throw even a torn page of an old newspaper, without reading it first. It’s a Paper thing, I suppose. 

There are many ways to honor my grandfather, and no one memory is better than another. The paper trail however, is one treasure that has passed from one to the other and is the uniting factor that just as our common blood runs in our veins, a love of printing ink runs in our brains. 

There was far more to the man. Unassuming, he quietly did his work. I don’t recall Bauji ever visited any house of worship. His work was worship. He retired as a school principal, and kept teaching, giving private tuitions till almost the end of his days. If I was at hand when he would collect his tuition fees, he would hand me the money, and say, “Go and give this to your grandmother.” Which I did. My maternal grandparents were the biggest blessings of my childhood. 

Happy Birthday Bauji!

From your ever-loving,

Veenu

18th August 2023.

11:49 pm