it's time for a lesson in family history.

my grandfather was born july 1st, 1919, in Agra. he was the son of a powerful man in the city..the mayor, in fact. there's a road named after him, runs near (or nearer than i am, at any rate) the prison where my father was put in solitary after he tried to escape from a prisoner-of-war camp.
this is true.
he was an electrical engineer. worked in the telecom industry, and traveled to europe to seek his fortune. was hired by ericsson, and with them he stayed for the duration of his working life. worked in sweden, england, iraq, lebanon, syria, oman, saudi arabia, pakistan..all over the middle east. eventually he was made the head of middle-east operations for them. he took his family everywhere with him: my mother had studied in 9 different schools by the time she eventually did her A levels, from kgs, in fact. his son studied in boarding school in england from grade six, or thereabouts. he hasn't come home since.
he was known to be kind, but forceful. he smoked a pipe, in his day. was the picture of the successful man..sitting in his chair, reading the paper, one of the very first models of the TV running in the background while he chewed meditatively on his pipe.
he died november 28th, 2003. Karachi.

my grandmother was born in Aligarh, on christmas day 19-..im not sure. in the 20s, i think. she completed her primary and secondary education in the same city. a normal household, they were middle-class at best. i don't know this, exactly, but i can feel it, sense it, from who she was and what she did.
she did her B.A from government college, lahore. studied at the same time that mr.iqbal was involved with that college. she knew him, in passing. she married, and moved to karachi..where she did her B.Ed from karachi university. later, during their travels, she did her M.Ed from the american university at beirut. she's taught all over the middle east, and in pakistan. my grandfather didn't like her working. i imagine it was because of his pride. but i wouldn't rule out the fact that he wanted her around more. he had twin personalities that ran more or less parallel to each other, doing the same thing for different reasons.
she was an exceptional woman. one of the most well read (in both languages) people you'll probably ever come across, she had a certain air about her of knowing so much more than you do, but keeping quiet in order to let you ramble and figure it out on your own rather than having had it told to you. she was a tall, very thin figure. short, curly hair..which she'd maintain meticulously with the aid of plastic curlers, and a round brush which i always found fascinating. she was slight..you always got the feeling that you could blow on her and she'd fall over. later in life her arthiritis would limit her movement, and that's another thing i'll always remember.
she was singlehandedly responsible for my learning, both reading/writing and appreciation, of urdu. we would sit for hours and pore over mahawaras, grammar exercises, writing exercises, letters, essays, literature. she was my best friend, alot of the time. and my room-mate..i shared a room with her for alot of my life. we would play rummy endlessly, almost every afternoon.
she was also a talented artist..scattered around my house are all sorts of things she'd made. vases, painted tiles, paintings, ash trays..i'll point them out to you next time you happen by. we would make flower arrangements together. and i remember one arrangement we created out of dry flowers that we were so in love with we didn't take it down for months. lay in the entrance of the house in islamabad for ages.
when i was down with a flu, she'd make me methi ki chai.
she died December 19th, 1997. Karachi.


i never really knew my other grandfather. at all, really, and the only person i could sit down and grill about him is..lets say unavailable. he worked in the civil service, both pre-partition and post. provided for his family of seven, they lived in north nazimabad for most of their time settled in karachi. later, they moved to a house in PECHS (my house) which he'd constructed and given out on rent to foreign diplomats and businessmen.
he died sometime in the 1950s. Karachi.

his wife was left to fend for herself, and her five children (the youngest an infant, the eldest 13yrs old). i have limitless respect for this woman..as did so many other people. ever since i'd known her she cut a very frail figure..very weak and bent-over, but a lifetime of struggling will do that to you.
she was from Faizabad, lucknow, btw.
for the longest time she was the head of our family...the eldest survivor of that generation, she was Amma to not just us, but to a whole swathe of people. inner strength..if there was one trait she personified, this was it.
for years she would make us unday ka halwa and pooris every friday (do you remember when friday was the holiday?). before she died, she made sure to teach me how to make it myself, because she knew how much i loved it. she taught me much, much more.
respect.
she died December 19th, 2003. Karachi.