Our soldier’s last Diwali

Roohani Shergill

THE brightly-lit earthern Diwali lamps cast merry shadows as I walked my 90-year-old grandfather to the porch. The light glimmered in his eyes as his face lighted up on seeing his grandchildren together, after a long time.

Holding his frail hand, I asked him to get well soon and promised to visit again the next day, knowing little that it was the last time I was seeing those kind eyes, for in a few hours, he would leave for his heavenly abode.

A retired Colonel, he had spent his early days in the dusty lanes of a village in Amritsar. Born in a rural household, his future had already been decided by society, which was to lead a life in the company of cattle and fields. But he had changed the course of destiny by sheer hardwork and grit. From getting a degree in graduation to getting enrolled, and then going on to retire as a Colonel, he had travelled a long and tumultous way. He had led the way and his four sons had followed in his footsteps.

Nehru’s Discovery of India had been his constant companion, read often and Glimpses of World History had been registered in his memory so well that he knew the book by heart. He had often narrated anecdotes from his school days when he would sit on the floor in the biting cold of January solving maths problems while his teacher and other students slept nearby. At the age of 85, he had especially ordered The History of Sikhs by Khushwant Singh and spent months pouring over the pages with a pen, marking the couplets and lines he liked best.

My grandfather’s love of reading skipped a generation and has passed down to me, increased manifold in intensity.

Far ahead of his times, for him, his granddaughters had always come first. His sons may be orthodox, but not him. He had changed with the changing times, all the while retaining his goodness of heart.

In a state of deep pain a few days before his death, he had breathed through his barely audible words, blessing me and my brother and assuring others that we would do well in life. Such had been our grandfather’s love.

Selfless, encouraging, pure.

The man who had risen from nowhere to reach the pinnacles of success, thus shaping the future of all his generations to come. I remember him as a valiant soldier, a disciplinarian father and a doting great grandfather.