An Eulogy To My Late Grandfather

Dedicated to the late Mr. Mathavan Krishnan Panicker.

I am writing this for my own conscience. As much as this blog has helped me express my thoughts on the world around and my perceptions of it, it has on rare occasions been a platform for me to let out what I cannot say to the people around me. Sometimes, your thoughts do not dare to leave through your mouth, and at times of high emotions, there is always a heavy weight felt within yourself and you can neither swallow nor spit them out.

My grandfather’s death has been a strange happenning to me. To be honest, I was never close to him. The fact that we lived 200km away from him was a big factor in it. Nevertheless, granddad loved me and my brother just the same. My mom was his favourite, though not his “anak manja”. He could always count on my mom and I dare say that my mom was THE MOST affected after his passing.

Grandad was a soldier in WW2 for the Malayan Army. I do not know the exact details of his army days, as he never spoke to us regarding that matter. He married my grandma, the 3rd out of 6 siblings, and proceeded to take care of the very extended family. He contributed to the family’s earnings from his earnings as a Chargeman for Lembaga Letrik Negara (LLN). He managed to get some of my grandma’s siblings to get married, and he organized everything with his own effort. He even supported the education of one sibling and helped him attain his current wealth and name.

Granddad fathered 3 children. My aunt, my mom then my uncle. He and grandma then adopted another child and raised him as their own. My granddad endured a lot in his time, and there wasn’t a moment of rest for him. His daughters got married and went away with their husbands; my mom in Klang and my aunt in Johor. My 1st uncle suffered from epilepsy, and the 2nd one (the adopted child) became an unruly rowdy, often high on drugs. Nevertheless, granddad worked his ass off to provide for everyone, and he cared for them with no less affection. Though the adopted child left his adoptive parents one day to go live with his biological mother, my grandfather never ever had the slightest ill-feeling towards him.

My granddad survived 2 motorcycle accidents in the past 5 years and also a surgery for an enlarged prostate. He always came back healthy. He had a natural green thumb, and his orchids were his pride. His rambutan tree bore the sweetest fruits, and he diligently kept his front yard clean. The house he lived in, was built with his own two hands. Literally. Every brick and wood has his blood and sweat in it, and I remember him feverishly saying that he will never leave that house, for no reason whatsoever, and he shall breath his last inside that very house.

He had been very sad lately, due to some conflicts with a certain family member. The last phone call saw him pour his heart out to my mom, all the while asking her when will she come see him. My mom wasn’t able to give a definite answer, and she was deeply affected after the conversation she had with him, even telling us that her heart is very much unsettled.

When the telephone rang at 2.30 am last Tuesday morning, I awoke with a lump in my throat and a thump in my heart. No call at this hour can bring good news. I heard my mom answer the call, and all I heard next was the shocked expression my mother let out which was followed by crying sounds. We left home as soon as we could, hurriedly packing and without much preparation. I drove dad’s car way above the speed limit and reached Jelapang within two hours.

When I saw his lifeless body there, I did not know what had went on. It doesn’t really hit you until the exact moment where you see everything with your own eyes. As I touched his cold feet to acknowledge him, I felt disappointed for not being able to know him better. The sight of my mom crying her heart out was too much for me, and I exited the hall.

We waited till 9am, then proceeded to wash the body according to Hindu rites. We then dressed him up, and set him in his coffin and proceeded to organize everything. As his eldest grandson, I participated in his last rites which lasted for almost 3 hours. We then went ahead to the crematorium where we opted to have him cremated in the traditional way. As I watched away as the flames engulfed him and everything there, I cried silently in a corner. I don’t know why. The tears just came.

Many people came to the funeral. Granddad’s oldest friend, Mr. Abdullah, the area’s bread seller, was there from morning till night, honouring his closest friend. Relatives came from as far as Penang and Johor to perform his last rites. Some family members were paramount to making the funeral run well, and I thank them whole heartedly. Grandma’s siblings were there from start till the end to help and they showed they mounting gratitude to the man that helped them get their life on course. Donations that came in had exceeded our natural expectations, so much that the amount was more than enough to cover for the funeral costs. Even the vegetable seller from the local night market came to pay his respect. Last but not least, granddad’s adopted son came too, and he did his part in performing the last rites. Granddad will surely be proud of that.

It gave me great pride and honour to see that my grandfather had touched the lives of so many. He was far from being a financially-able man, as at times, the family had struggled more that its fair share. But his generosity in heart can never match any amount of money. I remember once asking him for a special type of ruler that I needed for school. As a carpenter cum electrician cum gardener, he knew all the tools of the trade, and within an hour bought me that exact type of ruler I wanted. But what was the best part about it was that he bought another piece for my brother so that he wouldn’t be jealous of me. That was the type of man he was; always thinking about everyone around him.

We firmly believe that is why he died such a good death. He passed in his sleep. No pain, no writhing, no complaints, nothing. A peaceful death only comes to a good heart. I am a strong believer in karma. Here was another reason for me to keep believing in it.

His loss is hard to cope. Even now, I can’t fully accept his death and regret not being close to him, or to put it in a better way, regret for not having the chance to be close with him. But whatever that he did for me was more than enough, and I shall cherish my memories of him. He died in the house that he loved. Exactly as he said he would.

May his soul rest in peace.