Why am I writing this post on the memory of my grandfather? Even I don’t know. But I have recently lost my grandfather and all I want to do is find ways to keep him alive. And maybe this is one way, I know, I could keep his memories alive.

Who was he

My grandfather’s name was Mr. Narender Nath Dutt Dubey. If in years to come, any of his grandkids or great grandkids try to find him and stumble upon this post, just for you – He was the kindest soul on this planet. And you are lucky to be a member of his family.

He always had a wide smile and used to meet everyone with that wide smile. He always had everyone’s good intentions in heart.

When did he came to us?

I live with my parents, a brother and my sister. My grandfather came to live with us during Covid times. As soon as he entered the door, my sister went to receive him and he with his broad smile happily shouted  “gudiya”(my sister’s nickname ).

He was cheerful the day he came and he was more than 85 years of age but still strong, climbed the stairs without any support. (My house has a lot of stairs)

We had a room in our terrace, he claimed it to be his. Because he was used to living in open areas in our Village home. He happily lived in that terrace room. He loved to lie down outside the room , more than inside. He used to take his dari(mat) spread it and lie down.

When the temperature rose, he used to go inside the room and when the weather was pleasant, he used to come outside.

The tragic day.

But everything changed 8th July 2025.  I was in office, I just went down to the cafeteria to eat my lunch. At 2.02 pm I got a call from my sister, I still can’t forget the heavy and shivering voice with which she said ” mummy bol rhi hai baba nai rhe”(mom is saying that grandfather is no more).

I couldn’t accept it , I thought there is something definitely wrong. This can’t be it. I called my mother to confirm, she told me(I could sense the fear in the voice, the voice was same when my grandmother passed away) that doctor is checking the pulse.

I disconnected the phone,  had my lunch (I still remember, that I was sitting on the first seat as we enter the cafeteria towards the left in third floor and eating jeera aloo along with chapati) thinking that they must have misunderstood, now doctor will check and say everything is ok.

But I called my mother again, she confirmed that he is no more and we need to come. I rushed back to the seat controlling my tears, packed my bag, went down, booked an auto, covered my face and cried in the auto. Came back to my flat and that day I had a terrible fight with God.

Struggle with Acceptance.

How can he take him away? Does god even exist? If he does, how can he see his creatures suffer? Why did he create this world, does he gain pleasure by hurting his creatures. Does he create us so that he can be worshipped ? And people must always fear him? Does he want to feel superior?

My wounds are still not healed and I still have all these questions.

Anyways, I packed all my things in the flat, trying to calm my mind so I don’t pass out in the road.

Me and my sister met my brother at sector 52 metro station and went towards our native. On our way, we kept cheering each other up so that the distance feels shorter.

As soon as we entered, there were my parents and neighbours sitting there in silence. Isn’t it ironic, that we his family members, reached to see him after our neighbours came. Maybe that is the price we pay for our hustle, that is the price we pay for earning more by living away from home.

My Parents.

My parents did whatever they could to save him. My father rushed from doctor to doctor just to save his father. He tried every medicine, every juice, every protein powder just to save save him.

I still remember the tears my mother has just a day before telling me how bad she is feeling for my grandfather, how difficult it is to see him in pain.

My father Mr. Pradyumna Kumar Dubey, who has a habit of washing hands ever single second was now cleaning after my grandfather. I saw a different side of him, all he wanted to do was to save his father.

My parents are more than 65 years plus, yet they helped my grandfather get up, feed him, dress him up. There were days when they couldn’t sleep, there were days when they couldn’t eat. There were days when because of holding my grandfather, my parents backbone used to pain for days.

All what my neighbours could talk was now nicely my parents took care of my grandfather, all they could do was praise my parents.

My parents never gave up. And so did my grandfather, he fought till the end. He was courageous in every way. He fought with god till his last breath. He fought with every ounce of energy he had in his body. He never gave up.

He was 92 when he died. His dob in his adhar card is 01-01-1933. For people, he was just an old person, who deserved to die because he was aging and had nothing more to offer. But for me he was just my grandfather, who could have lived with me forever , seen my wedding , seen my husband, seen my kids.

I Will miss him Always- in the memory of my grandfather

I will always miss going home and rushing to the terrace to tell him, I came and rushing back again while leaving just to tell him that I am going and will come again soon.

I will miss his smile the smile using which he used to teach me, tell me stories of my families. I will miss tying Rakhi on his hands during rakshabandhan. I will miss him during Diwali pooja. I will miss having long gossips with him, fighting with him. Complaining about my parents to him. I will miss everything about him.

I hope he is happy wherever he is and he gets everything that this universe has to offer because that soul deserves nothing less.

I will keep writing posts in the memory of my grandfather so that I can keep him alive.