Times of Bonding with my Grandpa

My paternal grandpa was a manager during the British rule in India.He was educated at the prestigious St Xavier's school.A very well read person, he had many good collection of classic books and old paintings on freedom struggle.One particular painting was that of the Round table conference.He would share with me about the freedom struggle and also his job as a manager , which after few years he resigned to look after his ailing mother and take care of the land.The old house still has a stable, with pots inbuilt in the floor , from surface down for the horses to drink.I would wonder what it looked like those days with no noise of traffic , but only the galloping sound of horses.The house is made from hard stones, and has a wooden staircase, with a small door, bigger than a window, to go out on to the top of the veranda.From there one can hear the thrashing of waves, the Indian ocean.Those are fond moments of bonding with him.He is no more, but i can still see him before me, his wrinkled face, his habit of saying prayer, bending his head low, with his fist full of the food, and thanking God for the daily bread.I learnt being grateful for the food we often would otherwise take for granted. He would love to share about everything from literature, to politics, to poverty, to freedom struggle, philosophy, religion, the British Raj in India and above all i loved to hear him, to know about his life, he who had walked the life before me , in times very different from mine.For i wanted to strongly engrave his every word in my heart, for i knew he is getting old and this sharing may not be for long.