In 2016, I chanced upon a pile of old letters that left me with more questions than answers. There are many ways to be introduced to a person, and in the case of my grandfather, perhaps it was through these that I truly met him.
He wrote a letter to the then Punjab Government asking for a two-month leave (parole). He was jailed in a town called Sambrial in the North-West Frontier Province, modern day Khyber Pakhtunwa Province, in Pakistan, not very far from where the wedding was to be held. To his relief, he was granted the leave, but there were stipulations to be adhered to.
This letter dated 28 October, 1942 made its way from Ceylon to Thrissur. It is written by my grandfather and speaks mainly of family matters and describes his life in Ceylon. My nanaji, like many other migrant workers, stayed and worked at the plantations for 7-8 years to support his family.
Since 1987, not long after he retired as Class II Income Tax officer, thatha has been filling up one page a day with the words Sri Rama Jayam, meaning Jai Sri Ram in Tamil. Every single day, the same words repeated until they cover the entire page.
A few years later in 1985, I also got married and we both got busy with our respective lives, eventually losing touch. Its been 35 years today since we last spoke to each other.
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