From that day on, Bahadur lived to become a member of the family.
Last night, he died of a heart attack. Age: 60 something.
He brought my mother up from the time she was a new born baby.
He refused to go back to his family in Nepal or even visit them when my granny offered him money to travel.
He was the best cook I have ever known.
Everyone in the whole locality knew Bahadur, and Bahadur had the memory of a hawk. He remembered faces and would recognize my mother's classmates even if he hadn't seen them for 30 years or so - to everyone's astonishment, including the classmate.
Ever since I've known him, (that would be all 23 years of my life), Bahadur has been always lively, always indulging us kids and each time we visited, treating us like princesses.
When I got into college, and started spending more time around my Granny's home, I'd go there often for lunch and be treated to a feast. I lived there for a whole month, and reveled in his pampering. I've taken friends home to show off his cooking.
He was very interested in movies and loved Bollywood. And was so quick at grasping what he saw on TV. I've been often amazed at his insights and comments about film makers and their style and their flaws. I wonder, if only he'd got a chance to have a better life...
The last few years as granny got older and weaker, Bahadur looked after her - feeding her, and bathing her, and looking after her constantly. And neglecting his health. Diabetes. Weak heart. Bad eating habits. No amount of pleading of ours would get him to look after his health. Carefree and cheerful, God, I'm going to miss him. Miss knowing he's there, and knowing that I'd get the warmest welcome when I drop in for a quick hello.
Always giving. Always smiling. Never hassling. Peaceful.
We will never forget Bahadur.
2 comments:
It's really nice of you to write about Bahadur. He was surely a faithful man. I wish we had many more people like him in our society.
May his soul R.I.P.
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