My Grandma was very fond of her convent school days in the British Raj. Once fluttering Barnaby Rudge in her hands as her glasses slid down her nose while catching Santa Barbara on Star World, she told me of the days when she studies with British girls. Her father was a very influential contractor in the British Raj who fulfilled each of her wish with closed eyes. If she asked for a box of sweet, she was presented with numerous plates(thaal, as she called them) of a variety of sweets and asked to indulge herself. The good times didn’t last long and her father was killed by a falling boulder as he went for an evening ride on his horse in the snaking roads of Dalhousie. That day my grandma saw an owl sitting on her bed in the hostel before she got the news.
They were a different kind of people and it was a different kind of India. The Nation was in turmoil trying to gain its independence and in the midst of it all, there was a love story brooding between a rich girl who was never denied a wish and a village boy who fell in love with her the moment he saw her. It started with an initial discord between the couple but soon culminated into an everlasting love. There was a girl in my grandfather’s village who was madly in love with him. The day he married grandma and brought her home, that girl came to see her. To see the beautiful woman who took the place that girl had always dreamt of.
Grandma was offered roles in movies but she had to decline because in those days acting was not meant for girls belonging to respectable families. She declined not even realising that she was ruining my and my father’s career in the film industry. 
But then, that’s water under the bridge.
Then came the horrifying stories of the partition. A screaming in pain Mother Earth gave birth to two blood drenched nations joined to the mother by a single umbilical cord. As time settled down the blood, life again looked up like a sunflower who has just received the first rays of sunlight. Blessed with four kids, a son and three daughters, it was the perfect family. With a salary of Rs 10/month, the household saw many fulfilling days.
“We used to have everything in the house and still I was able to save 3 Rs/ month”. Grandma used to say. Father used to get a few “annas” for his expenses. Grandfather was a strict disciplinarian and somehow forgot to love his children in the process. The discipline somehow vanished by the time his grandchildren were born because he loved watching Baywatch even in their presence. It was a perfect Indian family with a doting mother, a strict father and four beautiful children(out of which the youngest would die of an electric shock soon after her marriage).
The entwined lives went through many ups and downs as the children grew up and chose their paths, got married and settled down. There were tears, laughter, screams, fights, love, manipulations, hatred and death. Essentially all the ingredients to put Balaji Telefilms to shame but lets not dwell in the dark areas.
There are so many stories of the bygone era to which I was subjected to as a kid that sometimes it overwhelms me. It was someones life which I took as a fairytale. A life which will be finally lost someday when no one will be left to tell about it. Many of us have been fortunate enough to listen to such stories when the people narrating them went so deep that they didn’t even realise that they were living it all over again. The gleam in their eyes was proof that the time machine has taken them far away. Then a sudden realisation, a gasp and reality sank in. The present made its visibility painfully crystal clear. More sighing. Silence.
I wonder at times, who would tell my stories when I am long gone. Who will tell that there was once a boy
…who proposed to a girl in class 2 and got punished for it in front of the whole class…
…who saved his pocketmoney so that he could go to the Sunday Daryaganj Bazaar to buy secondhand books and then later he finally had a library which had all the expensive books he dreamt of buying…
…who loved to collect the dry red maple leaves between the pages of his books. Leaves which used to fall on the stairs of his college building…
My life will be a lost story one day when there will be no one to remember it. Just like my grandma’s. Just like millions of others.
p.s. After re-reading the post, I still don’t know why I wrote it. 
[photo taken from - http://flickr.com/photos/street_spirit/986115966/in/photostream ]
Torch against Terrorism
The White Tiger
Aravind Adiga(3/5)
Dead Poets Society(4/5)
Valkyrie(4/5)
Frozen River(4/5)
Trainspotting(5/5)
12 Angry Men(5/5)
Really nice to read and its touching. My grand mom also used to tell stories about visit of Gandhiji to thier village and war times etc. You forgot to tell about your long journey’s in NCR
Surely your grand children will hear this with open mouths 
” My life will be a lost story one day when there will be no one to remember it. Just like my grandma’s. Just like millions of others.”
I think it’s a great realization you had pretty early in life..but dont ever forget this even if you end up becoming Alexander the great ..
such love for your grandma. enchanting.
‘Grandma was offered roles in movies but she had to decline because in those days acting was not meant for girls belonging to respectable families.’
It still holds true in some ‘respectable families’ to this day.
I wonder at times, who would tell my stories when I am long gone.
hopefully, your blog is still around by then for that!
She declined not even realising that she was ruining my and my father’s career in the film industry.
you act? can’t imagine you in a bollywood movie.
then again, i can’t imagine cos i have no idea how you look like, haha.
You should write a memoire of your granny, seriously.
And there will be your grand children to write about you nahin to yeh blog hain na
BTW loved the nostalgic tone of the post and you wrote it because you felt like writing it, why are you trying to find reasons for it?
Nice post!
But wat made u turn so nostalgic?
“I wonder at times, who would tell my stories when I am long gone.”
Well, as others have already said, what better way than ur blogs!
Beautiful post .. Atleast now, you’ll have these blogs to encapsulate your memories and stories …reminded me of stories my own grandma told me of her heydays.
This blog would do a bit I guess…
lovely post…i love listening to my grand parents’ tales…:P
Beautifully written
Took me back in time when I was a kid and would fondly listen to all those stories with stars in my eyes 
Beautiful.
Yeah many of our stories would either remain on our blogs or in our thoughts for years to come.
Oh amit,
!!
Dont worry !! sure there wud b someone to tell ur tales, atleast the girl whom u proposed to
dude… wtevr u’ve written here may sink in and sink out of my head… but the last question is really worth pondering over. reading ur post made me feel lik watching a movie… well written…
PS:I too proposed a gal in 2nd standard and fortunately she accepted…
And then we lived as lovers happily ever after… till the final bell of the day had rung… 
This is a beautiful post Amit and very well-written. Thanks for sharing this beautiful story of your grandmother. These stories are never really lost, I feel that in some way they get imbibed into the next generation. They influence, they become a part of the next generation even if that person doesn’t it. Sounds strange I guess. But there is something called genetic memory!
While following the trail of Wednesday’s review I stumbled on your blog. I found a very candid display of feelings in this post. Feelings that are often devoid the garb of expression. It made me think of my family tree.
Your blog has also inspired me to start blogging again! I do have a blog but only 2 substantial posts in its lifespan of over 5 years. (http://jainvineet.blogspot.com)
Keep sketching my friend.
Hey this is such a lovely post and the first one i read today! And it definitely made my day!
U can actually write a novel on it and no, i am not at all joking!! as you said this life story of your “grand mother” has all the ingredients of a protagonist a novel would need 
And dont worry about your own story, you would live through your children and grand children and one day we would probably read ‘another’ such post written by Amit jr.
such a morose but thoughtprovoking post! Yep, sometimes we just wonder and keep wondering, because we cannot do anything about it.
humph! now you made me feel worthless.
*wanders off thinking plans to make life worthy*
I had read this post the day u posted but i was too overwhelmed to comment. Very touching post! Sadly I got to hear stories only from my mom as my paternal grandma passed away before i was born and grandpa was never fond of us. As for mom’s side, we only visited them back in W.B. village once a year.
every person’s stories are forgotten after few generations….thats the truth. But we being the smart ones, we can write a diary or journal or blog and save it as pdf for future generations to read
@Sakhi “one day we would probably read ‘another’ such post written by Amit jr.” what an ambitious thought!! Apne aakhri saans tak blog padhti aur likhti rahegi kya??
Your grandmothers story is being told by you. Yours will be told by you and your Geet’s children and grandchildren. It’ll never get lost. Agar teri shaadi nahi hui toh I’ll tell my kids to continue with your story okay?
Anyway, I loved the post. My grandmother also tells me stories about her childhood, about how they lived in Delhi, they were so rich and stuff. My maternal grandfather used to tell me stories about how he studied so much, became so much and raised his kids. And then one day, he died. I cried a lot that day. Even now when I go to my Nani’s house, the pain lingers. Somewhere I can still hear him telling me his stories. Damn, why do people have to die?
That was touching. Your grandma never knew that one day her life story will find a place in the virtual pages of internet and will be read and appreciated by complete strangers (like me). The way you are remembering your grandma, somebody will remember you.
And, maple leaves in Delhi? I guess my knowlege of flora in the region is poor.
By the way, I came across your blog through a friend’s blog and have been reading for a while. A really nice blog.
@Everyone : Sorry for replying late. Being very busy at office.
@Vijaya Bharat : Thanks. Yeah, I have already written about my journeys. Maybe my grandchildren will read them when they travel in their flying cars.
@Lallopallo : Don’t worry. I will never forget it. I am very modest.
@Roop : Yes, its still not allowed but its fair enough. The condition is worst in today’s scenario.
@Sulz : All these stories will live till the internet it alive. And no I don’t act but here in India, there are whole generations of falimies in this profession. A hero’s son also becomes a hero. So, my grandma might have launched my father who in turn would have launched me.
And I look like the photo.
@Smita : I thought it was a silly post. I was a little skeptical before publishing it. Memoire? Well, I guess I need to know much more about her, but its too late I guess.
@Preeti : Oh! Nothing in perticular. All this was in my mind since a long time.
@Bhargavi: Thanks and Welcome! I am glad that you liked it. Keep visiting.
@Oxy : Yes. I am sure.
@Vishesh : Thanks Vishesh.
@Nova : Thanks Nova.
@Xylene : Yes, till the machine take over and delete all the blogs.
@Sujani : Do you really think she still remembers? I remembered it because of the beatings.
@Su : Thanks Su. That was the shortest love story.
@Nita : Thanks Nita. Yes, these stories live on but I believe that they don’t go past one or two generations. I would have loved to know about my Grandma’s father but unfortunately there are a few bits and pieces which I know. He was a great man of his times. Its really sad that I would never know him.
@Vineet : Thankyou for the kind words and welcome!
@Sakhi : Thanks Sakhi! Initially, I was not sure that I should write this about or not. BUt then I thought why not! NOvel? Hmm..you know I always wanted to write a novel. But life is not giving me much time.
Amit Jr? 
That’s too foreign. Chota Amit will be better.
@Lively : Yieks!! Worthless? I don’t know about that but one thing I am sure of. We are all a product of decisions taken a few 100 years ago. Hows that for a thought?
@Reema : That’s very sad. Sometimes I even wish to sit with my parents and know more about them. You will be surprised to find out that there is so much you don’t know at all. And, Yeah! Blogs are a great way to keep the memories intact, till the machines take over the Earth.
Sakhi is getting filmy.
@Ish : Wah! Thankyou very much for the optimism.
Death, the ultimate truth. Seeing a dead body is a feeling which can’t be explained. I somehow keep imagining the person as he was alive. Smiling. When Grandma died, I did not cried at all. All that is still somewhere inside me. Sometimes I fear that I will end up like a broken dam in the most inappropriate of times.
@Rachana : Thanks and Welcome! Yes, she would have been shocked.
It was a Maple tree. Somehow I recognized it from the shape of the leaves. And they turn completely red when the fall. And, I think it was a sole tree in the whole campus. Even I was surprised when I saw it.
Keep Visting.
no way! your eyes look like that?
Bittersweet is the word that comes to mind while reading this… Most memories are like that… We think we forget them, but someone rakes them up… Chill, my friend… Your blog will be your legacy… give me your login details before you die, ok?
It is never too late
I don’t think we are products to decision taken few 100 years ago. In fact I’m sure we are here because of the decision taken somewhere around 25-30 yrs ago
)
You can keep a diary of sorts to keep the details, and then when you get time (whenever in life!) you can make it into a big novel… but don’t forget to give me one autographed copy!!!
Aur chhota/’chhoti’ Amit hi sahi.. he/she will keep your legecy!
@ reems
@ Amit
Me, filmy????
this is really good blog . keep it up .
visit ma blog
http://www.ekdumjhutha.blogspot.com
wanna exchange link. contect me on ma blog
Amit I’m reading this post for the third time and every time I’m getting more and more nostalgic. It reminded me of my grandma who is no more but her memories are and will always remain. I also wonder why people die.
amazingly written!
it reminded me of the stories my grandmom tells us. like in those days, when there were no telephones, and mobiles of course, my mom and her sisters would land up at their grandparents house without any prior intimation, and walking all the way from dadar to girgoan.
Or how they would sell their newspapers and eat out bhel from the money they got
as for forgetting all these stories, u shd write a book, it sounds interesting..
Your question reminded me of a post I planned to write long ago but forgot in due course of workload.
I am not going to tell you to write a book.
Just keep this blog as live as possible and it will do the needful 
Nothing more to say, (don’t want to sound filmy
)
Cheers
Well, now that you told to all of us your life would no longer be a lost story
It was very nostalgic Amit. I exactly think the same too. When we become old and not-so-happening what would our lives be like? We would be living in nostalgia. Atleast your grand mother has a grandson like Amit to share her nostalgia with. But what if all of us have grandsons who would think nostalgia is a passé and never care to listen our stories? Whom would we all share our nostalgia with? May be that’s the reason we have this blogging world. May after so many years all of us still regularly meet in the blogging world. May be we will have old men’s/women’s blog meet 
And hey, if ur grandma had accepted movie offers you would, by now, have become ‘Amit’ab. Heeee heee. A very interesting post and I strongly support Sakhi that you should write a novel about your grandma’s life. Don’t take this suggestion of ours easily. I mean, we are not telling this just fir the sake of it. We seriously feel so. And who knows you could dedicate your novel to your grandma and she would be so happy that her life story remains forever. 
And hey, heard of bomb blasts in Delhi. Hope everything is fine! And I am posting this comment through my iPhone. Heeee heeeeeeeee!!!
Your grandma’s story is really out of a bollywood movie. Maybe that was a sign
Great post and love your blog. Adding you to my roll!
@Sulz :
@Nikhil : I think I will carry out a contest and the winner will get the login and password.
@Smita : Hmmm.. *pondering*
@Lively : But those two people would not have come into the world if another decision was not taken another few years before. Its a chain reaction.
@Sakhi : Ok Madam! Will do that for sure.
Yes, Filmy because of the Chota Amit line. 
@Realnep : Thanks and Welcome! I have added you to my feed reader.
@Anand : Third time?
Don’t think about death and all. There are some questions to which there are no answers. Better to leave them alone. We don’t even know why we exist.
@Strawberrymargaritas : And I even remember those handwritten letter my grandma used to get from my Bua.
It was a different time. Book….might be a good idea.
@Suda :
Thanks Suda and I hope to see that post soon. 
@Manoj : Haila!! Ipod se??
I wonder where our blogs will be in the next 10 years. How many of us will be left. 
And yes, don’t remind me of that movie career. You would have been watching my movies if that would have happened. 
Yes, I understand. There are many neglected good old people.
Yes, everything id fine after the blasts. I am still not dead.
@Shivya : Thanks and Welcome. I will visit your blog soon. Just give me some time.
Aw that’s so sweet Amit. Your future generations will admire you for this blog
Very nice post Amit, I liked the flow that you brought in it. Too bad if your grandma was an actress, you could have been an actor now
But wonder if you might have had this blog or not!
heyah.. awesome post.. I would like to meet ur grandson. Is there any way that he could meet me? he will tell terrific true stories (if you’ve ever done anything interesting) about his grandpa-ma..We’ll (me and he= we) compile all and publish online..that’s what we (me+ he= we) hope to give you forever..People will love reading those real tales and stories (That is what I guess).. this will keep you (The Legend ) alive forever..
P.S. Would like to see your GrandMa..Can ya post her pic?
@Priyank : Oh!! Thanks.
@Dinesh Babu : I would have started a blog like all the other actors.
@Alien girl : Maybe I will allow my grandson to write guest posts on this blog, praising me. Amit – The Legnd. Sounds good.
Grandma’s pic? Hmm…I’ll put it in some forthcoming post later. I promise.
Write your autobiography buddy to tell your story. And I too used to go to Sunday market to buy cheap book and dream to own a large library and also a bookstore someday
@Poonam : Yes, bookstore is also in my mind…if people would still be reading books by the time I get old.
[...] were just married. Since I have already told all of you about my Grandparent’s love story in A Bygone Life, I thought it would be great if I could post their pic too. Here it [...]