Every family has a story

Friends,  

every family has a story.

I know friends that you love your family.  You know many things about your family.  You tell few things about your family and you don't tell few things about your family . Everybody does this.  We all have special place in our mind for our families . Every family has a story.  My family has it too !  I am going to tell you many things about my family because they are the part of dehdays  ! Let's start from my grandfather. 

My Grandfather :

            Everybody is not lucky to see his or her grandparents.  I am half lucky . I could see my grandmother.  I couldn't see my grandfather, but I came to know from my grandmother about him.  I can't go beyond my grandfather as I don't know about the previous generations or I am not able to recollect that information if my grandmother had told me. My grandfather was a cotton mill worker in Mumbai.  I am telling you friends about my grandfather especially because he had a very strange habit.  He used to beat even unfamiliar persons fighting on the road ! Not only on the roads,  but anywhere  !  He had nothing to do with them and their quarrels , but he didn't like the people fighting with each other. He usually kept masala powder in his pockets and a solid stick in one hand.  When he found the fighters,  he used to throw the masala powder into their eyes and hit few strokes to both of them,  so they forget the fight  and become busy in rubbing their eyes leaving the fight.  Meantime,  my grandfather used to run away as his great social work was finished ! He was a different kind of social worker.  It was British rule in India at that time and there were complaints in Mumbai police against an unknown man beating the fighters and quickly disappearing. After sometime,  police drew a sketch as described by the people who had seen him slightly . Once the police almost caught him,  but they couldn't find any evidence against him.  One of the beaten man was said to recognize him,  but he was not hundred percent sure that the man who beat was my grandfather  ! So he was released  ! But,  the police kept an eye on him for six months ! The police kept on questioning my grandmother but she kept on denying that this was not the man police were searching for. After six months,  the police close the case and my grandmother and grandfather were relieved  ! Meantime,  my grandfather failed ill and he died one day.  At that time,  my father was one year old. My grandmother started to keep him with the neighbors and in such a way she did her job in one of the cotton mills.  This continued for further six months but it was not secure any more for her to stay in Mumbai.  So her brother brought her and my father to his home in the village.  This part ends here.  We will talk soon and I will tell you what happened next .  ( For a while  , What will happen next ? interesting post to read )