The Letter

Time to head back in time…

One thing in a family full of buys is that the older kids get blamed for anything that the younger ones do. In my case, the punching bag was my cousin Uday. Uday is about an year and a half older than I am so that made us “soul mates”.

Summer holidays were invariably spent together either in Bangalore or Mysore. Uday and I had several firsts together. Our first smoke (when I was 8), our first taste of meat, late night movies by sneaking out the back door, the list goes on and on. Every waking moment was spent plotting something or the other. If we had nothing else to do, there was always Harisha (Udays younger brother) or Aditya (my dear sibling) to pick on. But whatever happened, it was always Udaya’s fault. Even though the planning and execution and eventual messing up was mine. Uday always took these rebukes stoically and in good humor except for one time…

My uncle Ravi decided to marry Aunt Judy. For a Madhwa family from Mysore that was a culture shock. My Grandad was livid. Of course we are talking 1976 here when letters were the only means of communication. So a letter arrives from my Uncle one afternoon. Grandad reads the letter. Face turns red. He then sat quietly for sometime and then headed to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water. Uday and I see this letter lying on his bed and decide to read it (it was my initiative). So we take it into one of the other bedrooms and start reading it. Suddenly someone kicks the door. It almost comes of the hinges. Its Grandad. He realizes that someone has stolen the letter (that someone being us) and is understandably livid. He is shouting at us to open the door. Quivering, Uday opens the door. Fortunately I hid behind the door, so Grandad only sees Uday after the door opened. What a whacking he got. Me, I slipped out of the room from behind the door and ran away. I snuck away to the field behind the house. Uday, the poor guy got caught.

30 minutes later, I am engrossed in a game of cricket with the other kids when out of the corner of my eye, I spy Uday coming at me with a cricket bat and a battle cry. He wants me to get a share of the whacking as well. I bolt. He finally catches up to me. I brace myself for the inevitable. Nothing happens. Instead he looks at me sternly and goes, “You and your stupid ideas”… and walks off.

Relationship between us improves considerably later that evening when I hold on to a catch off his bowling.

We religiously avoided any eye contact with Grandad for the next couple of days.

EPILOGUE:

Ravi married Judy. Its been 30 years of married life now. They have a wonderful daughter Jyothi who graduated with honors from Dartmouth.

After his initial tirade, Grandad became great friends with Judy. It was because of my Aunt Judy that I survived student life in the USA as did my brother. She was our Guardian Angel. Still is.