Before you read this, just go and talk to your grandparents. I’ll wait. *whistles while aimlessly looking around*
So here’s the surprising thing; your grandparents aren’t going to be around forever. And once they are gone, your heart will be full of regrets and very little memories. Don’t let that happen. Regret is like that psycho girlfriend who doesn’t understand the concept of breaking up. Or a restraining order.
Every day we pass up moments that could be better utilised. You really don’t have to watch four episodes of your favourite TV show back to back when you can sit with dada-dadi. And no, the whole “it’s too late, they must be sleeping” thing is invalid. Old people almost never sleep at night. It’s like they breathe caffeine post-sundown. They sleep out their quota in the day… unless, of course, those pesky kids have been playing cricket in the gully again.
Let’s face it: most of our time is anyway spent dodging Game of Thrones spoilers. But guess who doesn’t watch GoT? Your spoiler-free grandparents. They don’t care about Khaleesi, because you are their sun and stars. Or dragons. Whichever you prefer.
There is a reason why no teenage kid rebels against his or her grandparents, ever. It’s because grandparental love is different from parental love. They don’t judge, they just love. And they’ve loved you ever since you looked like a tiny bald rabbit, covered in poop and tears. And they will continue to even if you turn out to be a total loser, covered in poop and tears. In their old and blurry eyes, you will forever remain a baby, and the thing about babies is, you can’t hate them. Stupid, chubby little cuddle-bombs, always getting their way. Hate them. Actually, no.
Saying no to food is saying no to love. Saying no to love is saying no to life. Saying no to life is stupid. So don’t eat out, eat what your grandma cooked instead. I remember one summer vacation spent at my Nani’s house, where I put on 20 kg in a month. I’ve been on a diet ever since.
And, despite being the only demographic that doesn’t understand technology, they are like adorable time machines. For they are your only link to a world long gone, when the songs were cleaner than the air, a huge salary package amounted to a mind boggling Rs 20 and the technology to use landlines to click pictures of your food didn’t exist.
Good that I mentioned food too. Another delicious feature exclusive to grandparents is the way they express affection through food. They pour all their fattening love (anything your dietician has told you to avoid like the plague… and ghee) into food. Then they feed you and feed you till your teeth tire, your jaws jam and your stomach has developed its own gravity. And then they feed you some more. In their eyes, their grandkid can never be fat, a sentiment that will always remain contrary to the weighing scale. (Maybe that’s why I am single, because every girl thinks I am fat and no one wants to cook for me.)
In fact, their love for you is only equaled by their hatred for outside food. Restaurants trespass on their Food Love and it makes them angry. They hate eateries more than you hate slow internet. Yep, that’s how bad it is. Really, if it were up to them, they would burn down all the restaurants that fill up their little cupcakes with food they haven’t prepared themselves. But then it’s kind of tough to carry arson material when carrying oneself is a task in itself. Saying no to food is saying no to love. Saying no to love is saying no to life. Saying no to life is stupid. So don’t eat out, eat what your grandma cooked instead. I remember one summer vacation spent at my Nani’s house, where I put on 20 kg in a month. That’s like eating two fat babies and a puppy. I’ve been on a diet ever since.
As for summer vacations, grandparents have a way of making them infinitely better too. In fact, I think god created grandparents only to nullify the absolute horror that was holiday homework. As kids, grandparents were what smartphones are today. They had everything we needed.
But as we grow up, they grow old. We become busy. They don’t. We make new friends. They keep losing theirs. You are the last light in their last days. You can make them happy just by being around. No one will love this about you. Not even the love of your life. Take some time out. Sit with them. Talk to them. Teach them about Instagram. Or that Jon Snow died, or maybe he didn’t. I don’t know. Be their smartphone, because they don’t know what the hell one is.