I know only Ajja called you by this name omitting the 'dearest' of course.To me you were 'Hassan Ajji' or Ajji.Your children called you Akka as did some of your grandchildren.
But Pathu is a sweet name,maybe your parents too called you by that name.
You told me your father rode a white horse with a bag of gold coins tucked to his waist,when you lived near 'Kannambadi katte' or K.R.S as it is now known.That is also my image of my great grandfather.
We met twice a year,once when you and Ajja visited us -usually in summer and when we visited you.
I remember your friendly toothless smile and your strong gums.You loved the sour pomegranates and grated the flesh of guavas.I wrote sporadically in Kannada to you and English to Ajja. I wish I had written more often.
I forced you to tell me stories,being a fiend with an insatiable appetite for the same.I routinely pained any adult capable of telling me a story.You read to me from borrowed Prajavanis,but fell asleep midway when you spun your own tale.
Your remedy against dandruff I proudly used with my daughters.Cutting a large Citron Lime (herale kai),in half,adding a few teaspoons of coconut oil and cumin seeds,I set it directly on a low gas flame and watched the tangy fruit juice bubble.On cooling I rubbed into scalps,including my own,sure and safe in the rewards to follow.
Your advice to eat 'hongone soppu'( a food website calls this Sessile Joyweed) for good eyesight ,I couldn't follow;Germany and then Jaipur,so you can understand. You never owned a pair of spectacles or a walking stick till your nineties and those were your last years .You always washed your own clothes.Cooked your own meals and fed people too when you lived in that quaint cottage with Ajja in Hassan.
An early riser, I knew you rose at 4 a.m,heated water,and bustled around with numerous chores now made redundant by many modern appliances and maids.The tiled roof dripped in places in the heavy Malnad rains and I remember you calmly placing utensils to catch the water.I will have to dedicate a post to those rainy days in Hassan.Also to the finger-licking goodness of your huge slices of mango pickle.
I'm glad you read to me and told me stories then.I have grown into a greedier pig now when it comes to stories and hope to write some good ones myself.
I remembered you a lot on 27th which happened to be ten years after you left us .
Take care dear Parvathamma Ajji / dear Pathu.Please watch over me.
But Pathu is a sweet name,maybe your parents too called you by that name.
You told me your father rode a white horse with a bag of gold coins tucked to his waist,when you lived near 'Kannambadi katte' or K.R.S as it is now known.That is also my image of my great grandfather.
We met twice a year,once when you and Ajja visited us -usually in summer and when we visited you.
I remember your friendly toothless smile and your strong gums.You loved the sour pomegranates and grated the flesh of guavas.I wrote sporadically in Kannada to you and English to Ajja. I wish I had written more often.
I forced you to tell me stories,being a fiend with an insatiable appetite for the same.I routinely pained any adult capable of telling me a story.You read to me from borrowed Prajavanis,but fell asleep midway when you spun your own tale.
Your remedy against dandruff I proudly used with my daughters.Cutting a large Citron Lime (herale kai),in half,adding a few teaspoons of coconut oil and cumin seeds,I set it directly on a low gas flame and watched the tangy fruit juice bubble.On cooling I rubbed into scalps,including my own,sure and safe in the rewards to follow.
Your advice to eat 'hongone soppu'( a food website calls this Sessile Joyweed) for good eyesight ,I couldn't follow;Germany and then Jaipur,so you can understand. You never owned a pair of spectacles or a walking stick till your nineties and those were your last years .You always washed your own clothes.Cooked your own meals and fed people too when you lived in that quaint cottage with Ajja in Hassan.
An early riser, I knew you rose at 4 a.m,heated water,and bustled around with numerous chores now made redundant by many modern appliances and maids.The tiled roof dripped in places in the heavy Malnad rains and I remember you calmly placing utensils to catch the water.I will have to dedicate a post to those rainy days in Hassan.Also to the finger-licking goodness of your huge slices of mango pickle.
I'm glad you read to me and told me stories then.I have grown into a greedier pig now when it comes to stories and hope to write some good ones myself.
I remembered you a lot on 27th which happened to be ten years after you left us .
Take care dear Parvathamma Ajji / dear Pathu.Please watch over me.
