It was my favorite among the rest. The one I adored most amidst my treasured box of buttons. The Sandstone button. It was no gold or diamond but still the most priced possession I have inherited with pride. It would glitter like a thousand constellations when held in the golden morning sunlight. But that was not the reason it was my favourite one. The real reason laid in the glitter of the eyes of the one who had held it in front of me for the first time. I would try so hard to catch it with both my hands but failed. I had not yet found much control over my hands and feet till then. People would say one cannot hold such a distant memory but fortunately I do. Or rather, I struggle to hold on to them, as they are all I have got , of the most precious person of my life.
I am talking about the time when I was about 8 weeks of age. I had no idea what this world was all about. All I knew was he was there for me. All the time. My grandfather. My mother's father. And that we possessed a treasure. A box of buttons. That he would lovingly hold out to me and make me smile. There were so many of them. A glossy red one, a flat brown one, a silver shiny one, but the one that brought the brightest smile on my face was the Sandstone button.
I hold no memories of my parents at this time. I even had no idea there was anyone else in this world other than me and my Grandpa.
He was a tall and lean man with a faint clovy scent who would backbrush his shiny black hair every morning as I woke up. I would throw my arms towards him as a gesture that he needs to pick me up and take me wherever he is going. He would never dishearten me. I was as essential as the grocery bag he needed every morning on his way to the market. I remember the park seat so covered with fallen leaves on the onset of Autumn. He would take me under the tree and shake it's branches so that I would be overwhelmingly happy to witness the shower of yellow Autumn leaves.
As I started growing up and realized the presence of my parents, my Grandma , my older sister and so many other people all around, I feared. I feared that the other people would invade into our world that we so adored. I cried every time my Mom would take me away for feeding me. I would continue crying unless Grandpa would come running and fly me like an airplane into his lap. My happiest part of the World. I would slide down his legs and come back crawling only to amaze him by my growing up. I was so much a part of him, and him alone.
I was so happy. He would never leave my sight. I thought that was all. Me and my Grandpa. And of course, our little treasure chests which now included a box of old coins of different shapes, an envelope of colorful clips, the coin shaped shiny chocolate box and of course the most adored box of buttons. I had everything I needed. His smiles would wake me up in the mornings and his loving pats would put me to sleep at nightfall. That was all I needed.
Slowly I started learning words and was so eager to know what I should call him. My angel, everything I had. But this was the time I felt he was trying to keep me more with my parents. The woman who fed me was my Mom and the man who would occasionally show up to meet his " unwanted second girl child" was my father. I do not intend to hurt my parents but that was my early childhood feeling and there is no way I can lie about that.
During those times giving birth to a girl child in a middle class Indian family was crime enough. My mother was adamant enough to commit this crime twice. Hence, may be it was quite normal as things were going. But amidst all this fuss I had quietly sneaked into my happy place, my Grandpa. He was all I knew and cared about.
But he was behaving so differently. It was as if he was intentionally pushing me away and I grew grumpier. I had decided not to give in. I would not hold the Sandstone button anymore and would throw it away in anger. He would be lazily lying in his bed most of the times instead of giving me a slide on his legs. I would often show my anger by walking away towards my Mom instead of him. I had started walking then and the chippity chit chat sounds of the older people had started making sense. I had started learning words. I had decided to surprise my Grandpa after a long Cold War amongst us. I had started learning to say " Daddu". That's what we call our Grandpa in Bengali, my native language.
I had practiced all night and as the morning arrived I started getting ready to say my first words and win back my Grandpa's happy smile with a glitter in his eyes. Like the glittering Sandstone button. But things were so unusual this morning. Everything was white and dull and they simply would not allow me to his room. After a lot of crying, my Mom took me to him. I shouted, " Daddu" with a shining smile. My first words!! But he did not answer. He laid so still. Not even on his bed, on a wooden frame with white clothes, and white flowers, and white chandan bindi on his forehead. My Mom started gasping and crying as I was so confused. I hurdled and stretched out my little arms towards him. But this time he disheartened me. He never woke up again.
My Mom had sat me on his bed which was now so empty as he was being taken away from me. My world was being snatched away from me and I started shouting and gripping on to things around me. Only to find clutched in my hands, the Sandstone button. Glittering in the morning Sun like a thousand constellations. He had left it for me. The Sandstone button.
He had given up after a long fight with cancer. That's why the distance with me all this while. I had lost my world in a moment. I could not even have the chance of calling him "Daddu", or show my first trophy in school, my shiny medal in college, my adored husband who looks just like him while back brushing his shiny black hair in the mornings. But even to this day whenever I am let down, whenever I am sad and helpless I clutch on to my glittering Sandstone button, feel him within my heart and soak in strength from the thousand glittering constellations in one of which he resides. My Grandpa. My angel. As I hold on to my priceless Sandstone button.
