Starry stories

CAST OF CHARACTERS:

Patsy (Patience), later known as Tara, my nani or maternal grandmother

Heather Cameron, her lifelong friend

Vindri (Virendrapal), my nana or maternal grandfather

His parents

Me

Joni James (soundtrack)

When my nana would visit us in Delhi, he used to look up at the sky – infamous for its haze – and point at the lone(some) star that was visible, saying to me, "Be like that star. Always be an individual, no matter what others say or do." 

An article in The Times of India in 1953 described his plans to travel the world on a bicycle. He did embark on this journey. It took him 12 days to reach Bombay from Delhi, from where he hopped onto a vessel to Basra, Iraq. I don't quite recall all the places he travelled to, but most likely they were Kuwait, the Iraqi cities of Baghdad and Mosul, possibly Syria, and he did make it to Turkey – where one of his favourite stories involved being kicked out of a restaurant for abusing their offer of free unlimited bread.

The article mentioned his intention to visit many more continents over the next decade, but unfortunately his failure to keep in touch irked his rather well-connected parents, who had him hauled back home and promptly sent him for a haircut. Probably just as well, for it was there, in Asansol, that he met my then 16-year-old grandmother – who, as it turned out, was rather interested in adventures herself. 

In a letter on 5 January 1959, my nani's school friend Heather, with whom she corresponded for decades until the latter's death a few years ago, wrote:

“They were playing some of the old songs and I was thinking of our old school days. Do you remember "Why don't you believe me" and how you used to keep saying that Vindri didn't bother about you etc. and about the time at the institute when he held your hand for the first time. I often think about how we used to have such fun discussing our love affairs."

Tales as old as time, I reckon – interest that feels unrequited, or at least unequal, but probably isn't so; the warm thrill of holding hands after imagining it for so long; sharing vulnerabilities and recounting events to close friends who will keep them safe. Eventually, their love progressed, and nani got to experience living in a floating house, setting up a home on a mountain, and certain adventures of a gun-wielding variety (terrifying to me too, yes).

On the back of this photo is a note from Vindri dated 9 December 1954 and addressed to his future wife, "the star on which I have pinned my dreams, my hopes and my love."

Despite all the challenges they went through, nani fondly brings up the start of her relationship and marriage when giving me dating advice. She told me that I shouldn't get married for at least two years after I meet him, like her (I did four); when my marriage faced challenges of distance, she contextualised them through hers. It always made me smile, even if I didn't quite agree, to glimpse these vignettes of their life I hadn't known of before.

I guess it's a successful love story if you can still recount all the details decades later with a starry-eyed smile.