He didn’t like Chikus
So I was having dinner with my dad and grandma and we were talking about fruits and which ones were our favourites, and we talked about my grandpa and at one point my dad said, “He didn’t like Chikus”, in Tamil, of course, but in that very moment he looked and sounded JUST like my grandfather.
It’s funny how over the years my dad is beginning to look more and more like my grandpa did, all he needs is the blue eyes, to lose some hair and weight and he’ll be carbon copy of the Late great lawyer whose favourite fruit was mangoes. (Incidentally, mine too.)
I didn’t attend his funeral, but I like thinking about him. I think he lived a funny life. What i remember most about him is his smile, and his blue eyes. These thoughts came to me after reading this book called When God Was a Rabbit, so so beautiful and tragic, and I felt guilty, for being so unaware of true grief.
I still think it’s a strange thing, death, and to quote Polly Garter, the baby-bearing character I’m playing in Under Milkwood, “Isn’t life a terrible thing, thank God?”
