Grandfather's Steel Trunk

Grandfather's Steel Trunk

 The other day when I went to the so called 'rubbish store' I chanced upon this steel trunk, which I am told belonged to my grandfather. So that puts it to be about 90 - 100 years old.

I am told that my grandfather who died in 1933 at Uttarkashi while on his way to Gangotri had carried his luggage this trunk in on his last journey on this earth I visited Gangotri in 2004. While travelling in the comfort of an Army Jonga I wondered how the old man in his early 60's and no one from home accompanying him must have dared to undertaken this journey in 1933.Wonder whether the mode of transport  was partly pony and partly foot. Or may be a Noddy's raggedy  type bus? Of course every devout Hindu used to do the same in those days.



Stone from Ganga



When we reached the Gangotri temple I dipped my hands in the Holy Ganga river. I am sure the old man would have taken a Holy dip in that cold water which I dared not ! I picked up a small stone from the river.I  keep it in my my house as his memory.I do not remember having seen him. I know,there exists a photograph(which I have seen) of him and other  members of my family with me as babe in arms.



Gangotri Temple along River Ganga

 The trunk reminds me of another incident. We were travelling by train to Dehra Dun in the morning of George Fernandes's famous rail strike.Our train had halted at Hardwar where we walloped as many buttered toasts as we could,having starved at Old Delhi station the previous night.
For some reason this steel trunk was a part of our luggage that time.

On our way back we were travelling from Delhi Cantt to Ahmedabad. Almost immediately on boarding the train I started feeling unwell and my temperature really shot up. Halfway thru' the journey wife started feeling unwell ! Our children were small. And we had the 'Grandfather's Trunk' Children started imagining a fairly common  scene from Bollywood movies as to what would happen to them should both us were to pop off !!

As the train approached Ahmedabad my temperature started dropping down and when we landed at Ahmedabad railway station I was as fresh as a Daisy as if nothing had happened only a few hours ago.

(I must have taken our good old 'fauji' APC. How we veterans miss it in the days of more and more refined molecules with jaw breaking names and unexpected side-effects)