Are all grandfathers similar in nature? After watching three generations of them I reached at an affirmative answer. Fathers may be of different varieties — strict, very strict and authoritarian are only a few shades of them. But grandfathers are of only one colour — loving, loving and loving.
We were fortunate to have a great grandfather (we used to call him Thathappa: Appa or father of Thatha, our grandfather) who was a notoriously strict maths teacher. My grandfather, himself a teacher in the Government Engineering College, used to shiver in front of his formidable father, whereas all we could feel was a cascade of love when Thathappa used to bring us small bananas safely clad in his dhoti for us, his great grandchildren. He used to address my mother, who was his granddaughter, affectionately as ‘thangam’, which means pure gold, though that was not her real name. While he talked very sternly to Thatha, he used to reward us generously even for a right answer to the question of ‘one-plus-one-is equal to…’ with huge appreciation and an expression of admiration.
Next was our Thatha. Our uncles never dared to question him on any matter. But my baby sister, who was the apple of his eye, was his task master: she used to dictate rules to him.
“Thatha, you didn't wash your hands properly before eating!”
“Thatha, you were supposed to reach home before 8 O'clock. Now you are late by five minutes!”
And that too she used to shout loudly in her shrill voice. To all these, Thatha would laugh joyously, take her in his arms and shower her with kisses. He was also not far behind his father in encouraging us. He bought me a fresh copy of Wren and Martin (the English grammar textbook series written jointly by P. C. Wren and H. Martin, primarily for the children of British officers residing in India) and a ‘Hero’ pen which were very expensive those days, when I entered Class 10. My uncle told me Thatha used to get them only second-hand books while they were students. He was shocked to see Thatha’s shift from his earlier policy of tight-fistedness.
However, we had only heard about the “dark sides” of these two men from their children: about how the kids were forced to remain standing for nearly five hours at a stretch for a wrong math answer, or how they were made to pull 50 buckets of water from the well for spilling while eating, and so on. All we could feel was their overwhelming love. The real difference in shades we witnessed was that of our father. He was very strict with us, his children. As per his standards, one pencil should last at least six-plus weeks, one note book should last three months (both myself and my sister were notorious artists, and we used to draw on any white surface we came across).
My sister faced a worst plight. She used to be a very fussy eater, bringing back home the school lunch half eaten. My father hated the idea of wasting food. So invariably she was made to finish the leftovers in the lunch box every day after reaching home. (We later realised that it was due to his humble childhood days when nobody could get enough to eat, he made it a point not to waste food ever, though as kids we never could comprehend his feelings.)
Then my son entered the scene as our father's first grandchild. To our astonishment, it was our father who bombarded him with all kinds of expensive gifts that we as parents refused to buy him on his request. Our father, who strictly rationed each and every thing for us, was showering his boundless love on his grandson. The same protocol followed with my sister's children also — all smiles when in the company of his grandchildren whereas in our childhood we were under the impression that his lips opened only vertically and never horizontally (that is, only to talk and scold and never to smile)!
My husband endorsed this fact with regard to his own father also. My father-in-law also was a Santa Claus for his grandchildren when they were young. My son used to frown on Christmas seasons when his paternal grandfather was not around — he used to get from Santa only colour pencils or such inexpensive gifts irrespective of what he had wished for. But when grandfather was around, Santa was generous, fulfilling all his wishes. Only much later did he realise the different ways in which parents metamorphose into Santa and grandparents into Santa!
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