Nostalgia, I feel is often linked to a carefree, happy and secured past. Those days with less of a mind, when you were less bound by responsibilities and the tedious tasks of life. During my young days, I used to hear the nostalgic reminiscence of my own Grandpa, uncles, mom and dear papa and wonder what was there in those bleak old days to elaborate in such sweeter manner. But now here I am, with my own share of glorious past stories, centered around, none else but on those gone generations.
When my grand father told us about his young days, his fascinating narration and expressions enwrapped us children such that we went into a reverie. With a knack he took us through his dreams of a beautiful world. I believe these dreams that sprouted in us at such a young age had influenced our mental and emotional development. His stories gave us a kind of ability to “know one selves” first, then see the world. To bear an image of our true small self ( small i) with no any puffing up and flattening itself is a grace. Amidst all the life’s puzzles they lead a life of contentment and acceptance with the least revolt and rebellion against ‘the who they were ‘.
The virtue what we call “paarasparyam” in malayam pervaded the whole life. I could not find a corresponding word for paarasparyam in English. The one, which came somewhat closer, is the word 'allowing', I too was tuned in to this mould of Allowing, and I know what exactly it is! “ A society with less self-centeredness and aggressiveness could assimilate into allowing. The two words, he used very often was 'gratitude and sacrifice'. Those without these two qualities are not human beings, he stated. Regrettably, I didn’t have all my ears when he spoke to us. It was a kind of partial listening just for the sake of listening.
I miss this old man of my life badly. Sometimes there is a feel, a waft of mixed aroma of Bhasma (sacred ash) and a fragrance of his freshly washed white dhothi drifting by and I silently close my eyes to live over his presence once more.
