Angry Old Man Poem by Bashyam Narayanan

Angry old man

My maternal grandpa
I was quite young
Did not know how old he was

Orthodox
By thoughts and practices

Always seen in an traditional attire
Clad in doti with frills
And a fold running through legs
And tugged up on the back
Borders prominently visible in all folds

His broad forehead sported our
Religious symbol occupying most part of the forehead

Retired from a government service
After having served in different linguistic regions
Of Southern India

Was considered a scholar in our religious scripts
I knew that he conducted discourses

Seen always reading something
Through heavy spectacles mostly hanging on his nose

I remember not to have seen him smiling
A frightening personality for most of our family members
His anger has not spared even his grand children including me

He had four daughters and two sons of whom
Three daughters and a son were near him

Our home was very close to his place
And my mother would not miss an opportunity
To be there in her dad's place
So that she had nice time with her sisters
And her brother, if he stayed off from office

His return invariably from the temple
Made all fell silent

He had strong views about cinema
He believed these fictional displays eroded traditional wisdom
He advocated vehemently against film viewing
I heard once he even ran to the theatre
To fetch back forcibly two of my aunts
Beating them with a stick enroute home

That afternoon I was asked by mother
To come directly to grandpa's place from the school
I did as instructed
Grandpa was not at home
My aunts, two of them, silently vanished
And after sometime grandpa appeared
Asked my mother as to how come
She came there in the hot afternoon
Mom responded with an answer
Which I knew was not true
And she further said she would be leaving soon
Grandpa harshly suggested that
She would not go out in the sun again

As grandpa started preparing for resting
My mother dragged me
And took me out
My queries as to where we were heading for
Were unanswered
Mom silenced me with a painful knock on my skull
We were rushing through the temple
And reached the theatre

Oh we were to watch a movie
That thought relieved me of all the pains I had to suffer
My aunts were there to receive us
And all fell in a queue that was
Lined up in cave before the ticket counter
We got the tickets for the show

As we were about to enter the hall
I was shocked to see grandpa with long stick
Through a narrow gap
I made it sure he had not sighted me

He was visibly angry
And was enquiring some one
Probably about us

Luckily he did not get an answer
And I saw him walking back

With my mouth running dry
I narrated to my mother and aunts this event
They said in chorus
Thank God you did not call him
Hopefully we escaped this time the wrath of this
Angry old man