Irreversible Life

4th Jan 2020

My grandfather passed away today. He was 92 years old.

We called him Ameepa. To this day, I dont know the origin of that name. I assume it has something to do with Ameen, the youngest son. I could be absolutely wrong here.

I remember the man who always wears white, and rarely with a slight hint of pastels. I remember him sitting on the pattayam in the kitchen which doubles as our storage space as well as dining table, and enjoying his food. He loved plain rice and fish curry in a house which was always in Chicken Biriyani mode. I remember seeing him sitting on the veranda of the mosque nearby, where he chit chats with his friends.

The last time I met him was a few months ago when I took my son to meet him. The 3 generations had a nice time together, he tryring to talk to his great grand son, who is still grabbing language. Actually it was 4 generations. There is a photo of my father - who passed away 22 years ago - which hangs in his room.

May his soul rest in peace.

Ameepa