He caught me by my hand just as I was running past. I was a typical 8 year old, and was literally jumping up and down while he held on to me. "What's for dinner?" he asked. With him, it was always the same question. He came and sat on our patio almost everyday, and the only thing he seemed to be interested in was what was the menu at our house. That was a bit strange because he never ate at my house, and he didn't even have much of his teeth left! Anyways, I quickly recited what I knew of what mom was cooking and told him, "Let me go, grandpa, Anand will be coming to find me soon!" "Ok, off you go, be careful," he said as he let me go - he'd heard me okay for a change. He was usually pretty hard of hearing, and shouting so that he could hear would have meant that Anand would know precisely where I was!

"Why does he keep asking about food?" I asked my mother that night at dinner. "He is just looking for somebody to talk to," she said as she added some more vegetables to my plate, "did you talk to him properly? you should be respectful when you talk to him." "Yes, yes, I always answer his questions," I said, trying to figure if I'd be able to convince her to add some more ghee to my rice.

He was the grandfather of my neighbours, and to my eyes then, he was ancient. He need a walking stick, and I'd see him leaning on somebody or the other even with the walking stick to be able to walk. He always wore a slightly dirty veshti and an old banian. There was often this stale smell around him, I guess it was because he needed help to be bathed, and in the Madras heat, it didn't take long before you started to smell pretty ripe. All the children avoided him, some of the neighbourhood kids even made fun of him, they imitated his walk, his slightly slurred speech and his "eh, what did you say". To me, he'd become as much of a fixture around the house as any of my extended family that lived there. I wouldn't go out of the way to sit and talk with him, but whenever he was talking to me, I would stand and talk.

I think that was when I came face-to-face with death first, or at least the first time that I understood what it meant. It was the silent crowd outside their house that made me curious. "Amma, why are there so many people outside?" only then I noticed, she was changing into an old sari to go out. "Next-door thatha died last night. He just went to sleep and didn't wake up," she said, "He is with God now." "Oh," I was a little awed, "are you going there now?" "Yes, I'm waiting for your father, we have to go." "Can I come too," I really don't know why I asked that question. "No, be here and keep quiet." In a way, I was glad that I didn't have to go. I did watch as more people gathered, and it was an eerily silent crowd. I saw them take a new veshti, and watched as they dressed thatha in it. I don't remember when I last saw him in a clean veshti. There were a lot of flower garlands on him  as they put him in a black van, and the crowd slowly dispersed. "What is for dinner?" I asked my mom as she came back in through the back gate. Still the same question..

Challenge Update - 122 days, 147 to go