Grandparents are special . They seem to be a real pro at it . I still remember my granny's smell and how we used to decorate the house in Christmas . Their house was smaller than my father's never-ending mansion . But , nevertheless the warmth and happiness made up for it . Besides , I was too small to understand these things .
As far back as I can remember , almost all the Christmases were spent at my granny's . My granny could cook things out of thin air , not literally , though I believed this to be true as a child . I used to think that if you had wrinkled cheeks and whitish hair and thick glasses on your eyes , you could cook awesome food . Somehow , the theory doesn't go for my Mom . Her stuff remains the same as that I used to have 19 years before . But , my mother is great . And not to be biased , my father too .
I never could mix with my siblings properly , since childhood . As I grew up , I felt it better to mix in the surroundings and crowds . But , somehow people always noticed me in crowds too . Even today , I get so irritated when people call me 'cute' . Sometimes , I think that maybe that is the only reason why teachers chose me as 'class prefect' all my school life . Yea , I could study and maybe I was a little more intelligent than the other boys . But then , studies come to me naturally . My mother had a hell of a time keeping me in 'sitting' position as my elder twin brother went nuts memorizing answers .
Funny this is , but 'nuts' don't have the same meaning to me anymore . I have grown up .
Every Christmas Eve , we 3 brothers pestered our grandparents like greedy gluttons threatening them in our silly childlike tones ----- 'I want gifts , grampa . Otherwise , things won't be good . I tell you ' . And on my part , being the youngest , I'd try to stay awake all night to see if there really was a Santa Claus . Until 10 yrs old , I believed that Santa was my grandpa only . And next morning , after the gifts had been opened with devil smiles and gluttony eyes , I'd sit and wonder how my old grampa made it in one night to give gifts to all the children in the world , traveling miles and yet coming back by morning .
Christmas was special even though I am a Hindu . Maybe Grampa made in special , somehow , always . My grampa made great food . We'd devour his kebabs and chicken delicacies . Years later , now , when I visit Astor and Park Hotels with my parents , I love the food , but the sophistication and luxuriousness doesn't come with the warmth and love , of which we got extra helpings .
Writing on a blog is easy , coz, I know that my grampa can't handle computers . He's way backdated . So , he'll not get to read this . We men , love to be tough ; softiness embarrasses us . However soft we are inside , we never like to show . So , I win this match too , Grampa , just like you'd let me win all the cricket matches , deliberately missing the catches . Yes , now I know that Christmas isn't about celebrating the birth of Jesus , Christmas is about happiness . That happiness , which I saw in my grandparents' eyes in my childhood . Those smiles , which seem to have faded , as if , they have to really struggle to stretch their wrinkled cheeks now .
My dear Grampa , maybe Christmas will never be the same anymore , what with all the frequent hospital visits and emergency checkups . This part of my life , yes , this small part , remains frozen in time , Grampa .