My Grandfather and Me: Meera Siddharth

I think that Grandpa was the biggest influence in my early life, and much of that influence has shaped me into the person I am today.

My earliest memories are from visiting and living with him in India. Due to his physical limitations, he wasn’t the kind of grandpa who could run around and play. Instead, he regaled us with the fascinating stories from his life. Stories about Cambridge, travelling through Europe, working as an ICS officer, as a judge, was well as stories from Indian history, Sivaji and Asoka. Grandpa not only had wonderful stories, but he was such a great storyteller, telling everything with such detail and humor.

Some of my favorite Grandpa stories are: the French woman and the false teeth, meeting George Bernard Shaw twice, getting lost in Budapest, travelling in Spain during the Civil War, tiger hunting in the village in north India.

When Grandma and Grandpa moved in with us in Long Island, we then truly became friends. Grandpa was the only adult in my childhood who treated me as an individual person, not as a child. We had great conversations. His intellectual curiosity rubbed off on me. He taught me a love of books and learning. I still have two of the books that he gave me after talking to me about different projects I had in school: Mathematics for the Million (a book about the basic concepts of math), and Fate of the Earth, by Jonathan Schell, a book about nuclear arms. When I look at these books now, I note that one was published in 1944 and the other in 1982, the year Grandpa died. This just shows how he kept his curiosity and interest until the very end.

One of my clearest memories of Grandpa is the feeling I would get when I could hear him walking in another part of the house. You could always hear Grandpa coming because of his walk with his cane. He had a distinctive walk since his stroke had left him paralyzed in one leg. I remember always getting such an affectionate feeling when I heard that sound. And I would often go see what he was up to when I heard him.

I also just loved hanging out with Grandpa and laughing. I remember him laughing so hard he was in tears watching “Take the Money and Run” by Woody Allen. And we would watch the “Rocky and Bullwinkle” show together on Saturday mornings. Despite his lofty intellectualism, Grandpa could always appreciate goofy and silly humor. That’s one of the things that I loved about him the most.

This brings me to Grandpa’s last day, which was 27 years ago, but still brings tears to my eyes. It was a Saturday night, and I was going to babysit across the street. My mother said to me “Grandpa’s not feeling well tonight. Why don’t you sit and talk a little before you go”. So I went and sat with him, and we, as always had a great conversation, great stories. He talked about Cambridge a lot that night.

I went to baby sit, but when I came home, I was told that Grandpa was taken to the hospital. Dad called home and said that he was up and talking, and bossing the nurses around. I went to bed thinking “Grandpa is back to normal, he’s going to be alright”.

The next morning Uma Aunty woke me up to tell me that he had passed. It was such a shock. I wasn’t ready for it. For years after that, just thinking about him made me cry. I still miss him so much.

Grandpa had an incredible life. From very humble beginnings he achieved great things. His sheer brilliance set him apart from people. He was a special man and I feel so lucky to have known and loved him