To write about my tatayya is a difficult task. Its not because of the scarcity of content, but due to the abundance of it. Tatayya is outgoing, lively and never to shy away from conversations. Naturally, he has touched and influenced many people because of this and I’m proud to say I’m one of them. To narrate all those experiences with several people is not easy and even if I restrict it to my own experiences, there are too many of them to list here. So, I will do my best to keep those experiences unique to give the reader a glimpse of my complex and colorful relationship with Tatayya. Our relationship is not a simple grandfather and grand son one. Yes, there is a grand-father element to that, but it didn’t just end with that. Tatayya is my friend, he is my mentor, he is my role model, he is my nemesis (when it comes to gaining ammamma’s affection and card play) and he is my jousting partner. None could humor me, annoy me and teach me in the exact precise moment, like tatayya did. And if you think, I’m exaggerating, ask ammamma.
First of all, tatayya is not just addressed as tatayya. We, grandkids refer to him as “apple” tatayya. And thats not because he uses ipad. When I was 8 months old, my grand father visited our place and as a courtesy brought some apples. I was being tutored to pronounce “tatayya” (grand father in telugu) and I was struggling to do that. Then, to make it easy for me to pronounce, someone suggested me to say “apple tata”, since he just brought the fruits and I was enamored by them. I somehow pronounced “appu tatu” and thats how the name stuck. My other grandfather who used to live with us always brought us banana’s and it also worked to differentiate between the two.
Apples were seasonal and expensive. They had to be imported from shimla or Kashmir and both of those places were extremely far off from where we lived. And for the price of a single apple, you can get a dozen banana’s. But, tatayya stuck with the habit of bringing apples to our place, no matter what season it was and what the price was. Perhaps he had to live up to his name ;). And the fruit definitely had fascination to our young minds. Why not? We were after all taught “A for Apple” as the first thing in school.
Apple tatayya was not just loved because of the apples alone. He lived in a giant house surrounded by trees, big backyard and above all in a happening city called Hyderabad. The city that had plenty of movie theaters, entertainment parks, zoological ark and eateries. Going to tatayya’s house was like going to Disneyland. We had aunts who would pamper us, entertain us and play with us. We had cousins who would drop by from other parts of the city and we would play with them several games like cricket, badminton and monopoly. And, we had tatayya who would go the extra mile to arrange cabs and take us to different parts of the city whenever we visited. We also got to watch latest movies in the nearby theaters (the same movies which would come to our town after six months!) and watch movies on video tape at home on color screen TV.
One of the great qualities of Tatayya is his interactions with kids. They are fun, lively and engaging. He treats kids as his equals and doesn’t have the usual disciplinary air. One time, we were returning from a nearby tourist spot in Hyderabad (zoological park, I guess?) and all the kids were tired. Going back home was no fun. Suddenly, tatayya announced that if our car was not stopped at any railway gate crossing, we would all get ice cream. The atmosphere changed and all the kids were rooting to not have any halt to our taxi at the railway gate. I don’t remember whether we really got icecream or not, but small gestures like this made our trips more memorable. Another time, My sister and I went to a movie with tatayya. Tatayya said during the movie that the song that was playing was very catchy and he would go onto the stage and dance. My sister and I were embarrassed at the prospect of seeing tatayya dance on stage and we would try to convince him for a good fifteen minutes or so. Tatayya never had the intention of actually doing that, but he would use that playful banter to connect with his grandkids.
Its not always the funny and jovial banter that helped me connect with tatayya, but also his ability to make his grandkids draw out of their shell and make them express their opinions. Tatayya played this game with us where he would be posing as a psychologist and asking us several questions about our likes and dislikes about daily things. Based on the answers we give and the explanation to those answers, he would analyze and give us his opinion about our character. It was a very different kind of game which was not only amusing but also encouraged us to take a deeper look at our choices and articulate them to an adult. I play the same game with my daughter and her friends and they love it.
Another thing that I remember was massaging the legs of tatayya. The Indian tradition encourages to actively find ways to do “seva” (service) to our elders. Truth to be told, I never did any of that with my own volition, but tatayya made me do a little chore of massaging his feet. He would sometimes bribe us like a gentle grandfather with some extra money, but overall we would do it anyways because we had fun doing it and we also were competing with each other to be in the good books of tatayya. The subject of being the favorite grandchild of tatayya is like talking about blackholes and each one of us would like to think that we are his favorite, but truth to be told, none is certain that they are his favorite. Anyways, I digress. In the story of massaging tatayya’s feet, I would initially do the massage by standing on my legs and moving back and forth. I think it would have helped ease the tension in his calf muscles. Later, as I was growing older, I would do the massage by using my hands instead. Tatayya would complement us, guide us and talk to us during this endeavor.
I didn’t know much about tatayya’s childhood and his early life until we visited his native village, Vellaturu. It was a small village in the district of Krishna and was about 250 km or so from Hyderabad. My sister and I accompanied our grand parents. It was the first trip for me and my sister without our parents. We stayed at tatayya’s sister’s place and had long walks at the sunrise and the sunset with tatayya. He would take us alongside river canals, to the neighboring villages and to his childhood places. During the walks, tatayya would talk about his childhood, his school days and the early days of his job that took him to several remote places with no electricity and to lands with unfamiliar languages.
One incident that tatayya told me during that trip was about a boat accident. During his childhood days, tatayya’s school was in a different village and to get to school, tatayya had to take a small boat to cross the river. This was usually a safe trip. One time, during the rainy season, the waters in the river were aggressive than usual and the boat was tilting back and forth. Tatayya got scared by seeing this. His friends who were with him then laughed at his timidity and prodded him to get into the boat saying that he was being needlessly scared. Tatayya refused to get into the boat as he didn’t know how to swim and the waters looked dangerous to him. His friends left him at the river bank and got into the boat. They mocked tatayya from the boat and made funny faces at him. Tatayya didn’t oblige them and walked back. Unfortunately, the boat flipped shortly and one of the friends who mocked tatayya died. Tatayya told me this incident and talked about how his timidity saved his life. It was his way of telling his young grandchild to be careful and trust his instincts than getting carried away by others.
To be continued….
