Grandmother

I do not know whether people go to heaven after death or not, for me, as long as you remember me after my death, I will be in heaven.

As far as my memory goes, I have always seen her old, just like all other grandmothers. She does not grow like me or you. Her steps are getting smaller and skin getting bigger for her body by each passing day. She is my patronus charm against my angry mother, my piggy bank when father grounds my pocket money, my savior when my grandfather tries to sneak in bookish knowledge between his made-up stories, my equal partner in crimes and a true friend. She has silver in her hair, gold in her heart and most nerdy looking glasses on her eyes. She is my lovely grandmother.

She is full of stories, the kind which you do not find in books. She will tell me stories about ojhas catching ghosts, kul nag devta drinking milk, dead villagers still living on village neem tree and then she will walk me to the toilet because I was too scared. She makes me believe in witches, fairies and God. She offers ladoo in her prayers as she knows I love them.

We both had weakness for sweets and so whenever we will go to the market, she will buy sweets. Later she will fudge expenditure on the goods to make up for the sweets, but as she was not good at mathematics, she will end up reporting more than she was given in the first place with still few rupees to spare. Once I learned addition, there wasn’t any further calculation hiccups. 

My grandfather loves teaching kids and my both parents are teacher, so all together they orchestra a nightmare for a kid like me. So, she was the coolest one with no discipline around her.  She could feel the heat when I pretend to be sick for school. She would announce lunch time as soon as she sees me getting bored with studies.

Past few years have been hard on her. Her vision and hearing is deteriorating by the day. She could hardly understand anyone on mobile. Still, she grabs the mobile whenever she learns I am calling and will try her best to understand what I am saying. During last call she said that she misses me much and wants to see me. She can not hear me anymore but still wants me to call her every week. She has saved some money to buy sweets for both of us. She wants me to buy her a nice saree from my salary and she wants to wear it during my marriage.

She died last month. She did not give me enough time to even make my next call. I was not there when she died. I am sure she would have liked me to be there by her side. I miss my friend a lot.

Is Chaman Mein Bhi Bahar Aani Chahiye

I distinctly remember those days back in the school, when one of my friends has a peculiar habit of counting the number of bald people crossing us on our way home. At that point I thought what a weird habit. But now I have developed the similar habit. I count the number of people having less hair than me. Luckily for me, the number from old times has increased considerably, giving me lots of false confidence.

There was a time when I had dense forest on my head and combing my entangled curly hair was a painful job. I used to love to see falling flocks of hair on the ground when barber used to cut my hair. I used to dream to shave my whole head so that I could feel exact size of my skull. And now I am living the dream. I get to shave my head even if I don't want to, and interpolation of past data shows that this dream is soon going to end and one day I will wake up with all my hairs gone.

I try hard to forget all about my hair, but there are some, who always remind me that I am losing my hair at a rapid rate. I can not believe, people can be so insensitive. And, I absolutely hate it when people say "Why don't you do something", as if I have left any stone unturned to fulfill my heartily desire of growing my hairs back. I have only one thing to say to them, tell me the solution (Which can actually work) or shut up. Sometimes I stand in front of mirror and go back in time to grow my hair back again; stand bewitched, but as someone said reality bites.

Not that going bald doesn't have its benefits. According to some of my well wishers, I don't have to spend on Shampoo or any other hair products. It even saves from trouble of combing. Just smear little oil and you are ready, shiny and sparkling. People always think that I have already taken the bath even though I had just woken up. The biggest advantage is added seniority to my looks which automatically brings respect in the workplace. My best friends from college Pratap, Gour and Mishra are also losing hairs at a very fast rate. According to some magazine, “Bald” is going to be the next Fashion. Very optimistic huh....

Remember the proverb "Grapes are sour, they really are."- who needs hair. So I hate hair on my head. Who am I kidding..... :(. I absolutely adore them. Today I swore to follow on the ultimate quest to get my hair back. Only if someone could give me Harsh Bhogle’s contact number, it would be much easier. Until my quest is complete, I will have to make peace with the reality- Deforestation is a big problem for the world at large and especially for my head.