My Grandfather

Books, I have always loved, right from a very young age. And this I must credit to my mother, who had a voracious appetite for reading. But there was someone equally important or probably even more who made an indelible impression on me in my formative years. My Grandfather on my fathers side, Mr. Samuel Jonas Bangera. He was a man with a strapping personality and a rigid frame, who served as a convoy in charge for the Indian army. His skin was more red than brown, and his stern look always kept the neighbours children away. In other words very few of my friends had seen the insides of my house when he was alive. He traveled all over India transporting military equipment and goods from as far as Rawalpindi to Kashmir and the far east of India. After retiring from the military, he worked for a transport company into his conclusive years. He passed away when I was 10, in 1992.

The few years that I spent with him were pretty precious to me. He was a very well read and a well traveled person. He had traveled all over India and that part of India which is now in Pakistan & Bangladesh, thanks to his job and he traveled over the rest of the world through his books. He also was a great storyteller. Whenever he narrated his stories to me, they all felt backed by the seemingly vast experience that his wrinkled skin, fastened eyes , posture and reputation, making it difficult for me to pick out reality from fables, considering my young age. For his stories were like sand mixed with clay, some from his military experiences, some from his collection of books & readers digest magazines that he so diligently subscribed to, and some from tinkle comics he read at my cousins place. He never revealed the source of his stories to me, but they all seemed magical, from another realm, or so they seem when I try to recollect them, heightened by the nostalgia that surrounds them. Later as I myself started discovering & reading his books, his sources slowly unraveled themselves to me.

We had a small rack of books, say around 4 feet long, by two feet tall and around 14 inches deep. This was his treasure trove, way beyond limits for us children, for they held his most priced treasures, his books. The books mainly were encyclopedias, books on history, geography etc. Most of them were ordered from the Selection of books that Readers Digest keeps coming out with, so most were readers digest publications. Thus you can say that the unicorn with its raised wings riding over water (the readers digest logo), was always a part of our life. My mother was the person who got to hear most of his stories, even more than my sister and myself could get. Every afternoon after she finished her household chores (I used to be in school at that time of the day) she would want to take her afternoon Nap. But My grandfather would be waiting to tell her some of his stories. So she would have to pull out a chair, and sit listening to him for a large part of the sleepy afternoons, only to be rescued by my Grandmother, so that she could get at least part of her afternoon nap.

We children also got our share of stories. But we also longed when 'Ajja' (grandfather in Kannada & other south-indian languages/dialects) would pull out a book from his trove, and show us some pictures of the wonderful places mentioned in the book. One of the books really stood out, "Natural Wonders of the World". This book had wonderful pictures of beautiful places from all over the world. In those days of doordarshan (where the popular programmes were humlog, chayageet & amchi mathi amchi manse) & the internet being eons away, these pictures were like a window to the world. Books like these certainly have very few people who will read them today, considering we have National Geographic HD & Discovery HD which we can watch on our large Flat screen televisions, and even pause, rewind and replay as many times as you want if you have DTH and the right kind of set-top box. Then there were those other books that we never got to see. The encyclopedias and his treasured 'Mysterios Regions'. I only got to read that book after he passed away. Those were books we probably would not understand when we were kids. The visuals were old odd paintings of expeditions gone wrong, or strange daguerrotypes of strange bearded explorers.

Now all those books still lie, along with the many I have added into his collection. I am sure he would be proud to see what his Grandson has done with his collection. Still, with all the new books I have added, those old ones that i grew looking up to on the high bookshelf, would always have a special place in my heart. They remind me of a man, who inspired me to read, explore the world and embrace knowledge. My gentle ajja, Samuel Johnas Bangera.