Friday, 4 November 2016

Mekala thatha - the Goat grandfather

The end of an era.

Varalu called up to tell me the Mekala (goat) thatha had passed away. We did not exchange more words than that. Death has no answer. I should go there, but caught up with some family health issues i am also unable to.

For twenty years I have seen seen him traverse hills and downs with his goats and his songs. When our daughter as a small child has a chronic stomach condition we needed goat milk for her daily. We used to go to his village across the railway track daily morning and evening and he would seat us and milk his goats, a little from each mother so that no kid would go without milk. Day or night he would do this service for anyone from far or near, asking for no money and simply as it was punyam to help those in need.

The songs and his philosophies, akin to the highest Vedanta, ring in my ears. He had asked for an empty tin trunk at home to put his clothes in so that the rats would not get them. As I needed that trunk for the medicines, I promised to get him another, but months went by as this kept slipping in priority. It is too late, and it will be one of the regrets I will carry with me forever.

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