SECRETS OF OUR FAMILY

Grandpa used to be a gangster?

"In memories wrapped, a child of four,
I danced through moments, treasured, pure.
With grandparents' love, warm and near,
A world so safe, so dear, so clear.

Years drifted by, like whispers in flight,
Eight long shadows between day and night.
Now, grown yet yearning, I journey once more,
Back to that soil, to love I adore.

I watch her, too, her spirit alight,
Her joy a spark, her heart in flight.
Together we return, hearts unfurled,
To the land of our youth, our own small world."

Saurav, now thirteen, embarked on a journey to visit his grandparents once more, returning to the familiar yet distant world of his early years. He had lived in the U.S. since the age of four, where his father served as an agent for the government. Despite his natural curiosity about his father's work, it remained closely guarded. Their relationship often felt marked by a quiet distance; though love lingered in the air, it was seldom spoken.

Upon their arrival, Saurav's mother gently turned to him, saying, "When we greet our elders, kneel, place your hands together, and touch their feet. It's a way to show respect and love."

"But why, Mom?" Saurav asked, curiosity coloring his tone.

She smiled and explained, "It's our way of honoring those who came before us."

His father added with a gentle nod, "Yes, beta, it's tradition."

Saurav considered their words thoughtfully and responded, "Okay," with quiet acceptance.

"Arre, mera beta!" his grandmother exclaimed warmly as she embraced him. "No need to kneel before me," she insisted, her smile radiating affection.

"Come inside, everyone," his grandfather called, welcoming them into the cozy home. "How was your journey from the U.S. to India?" he asked, eyes twinkling with interest.

Saurav responded with excitement, "It was incredible! I've never seen anywhere as lush and green as this place-even back home in the States."

As evening fell and the clock struck 8 p.m., Saurav eagerly sought out his grandmother, ready to dive into a conversation he had anticipated. He found her in a cozy corner of the living room and asked, "Granny, what makes someone a superhero?"

With a warm laugh, she replied, "A superhero is someone who helps others without expecting anything in return. It's not about power or fame; it's about kindness. A true superhero can be anyone, regardless of age or gender-even you, Saurav."

As he pondered her words, his grandfather entered, draped in a traditional *gamusa*. With a playful yet serious tone, he added, "Ah, but remember-without villains, even the greatest superhero is just an ordinary person."

Saurav looked between his grandparents, feeling inspired and amused by their words. He realized that heroes and stories weren't always about fantasy; sometimes, they lived in the simplest acts of kindness around him.

"When I was about your age, I once hunted down a fox in the depths of the night," Grandpa reminisced, his eyes twinkling with nostalgia.

"Weren't you afraid?" Saurav asked, curiosity piqued.

"No," Grandpa replied confidently. "I did my best to scare it away, but there was nothing in that forest that could intimidate me."

With a smile, Grandpa added, "But you see, it wasn't really about the fox at all." The glimmer in his eyes hinted at a deeper lesson yet to be shared, one that spoke to courage and the mysteries of the night.

Saurav quickly grasped what his grandfather was hinting at. He had been trained in self-defense and had studied karate since he was ten, which instilled in him a sense of confidence and resilience. He understood that Grandpa wasn't merely talking about the hunt; he was imparting a lesson about courage and the importance of being prepared to face any challenge.

My father once shared a story about a time when my grandfather was a figure among gangsters, but it wasn't for violence. He stood among them to protect his religion, his gods, and his family.

Saurav cherished the joy he experienced during his weekend in India. "I want to be a superhero, just like you said, Granny," he declared enthusiastically.

However, as he contemplated his grandfather's words, he noticed a change in his grandmother's demeanor. She seemed nervous, perhaps even fearful.

"What are you thinking, Saurav beta?" Grandpa asked, sadness welling in his eyes as he sensed their time together was limited.

"Nothing, Grandpa," Saurav replied, feeling the weight of the moment.

"Oh," Grandpa murmured, then, with newfound resolve, Saurav stood up and asked directly, "How many people did you kill in your era?"

Grandpa was taken aback but saw the confidence in Saurav's gaze. "I never harmed anyone who had good intentions," he said solemnly. "However, I may have taken the lives of those who sought to harm our people."

"Really? Were you a gangster?" Saurav exclaimed, eyes wide with curiosity.

Grandpa nodded, a shadow passing over his face. "Yes, I was," he replied, his tone somber. "A monster with no heart."

The room fell silent as Saurav absorbed his grandfather's words, realizing the complexities of the past and the burdens carried by those who protect what they love.