Ankit Jain

Not an Eulogy

Dictionary defines "Eulogy" as a piece of writing that praises someone, especially as a tribute to someone who has just died.

In this sense, this is not an eulogy. My grandfather was no collector, general, or barrister. There was no salute of 21 guns, no flags were lowered, and there was no official mourning.

But does it really matter?

As I'm writing this, there is a constant gush of people around our place who are grieving and telling us stories about him that I never knew existed.

All these stories have just one common theme - it's about how Baba went out of his way to help them. Now that he's no more, nobody has any scores to settle, any favours to win or to have anything that would help them in any way but still they are there. And that's how you win at life.

At the time of mourning, the account is settled with how you made the other person feel, not with what you collected.

Grandpa had a large family. By the end of his long life, he was the proud father of six sons and two daughters, with over fifteen grandchildren and three great-grandchildren. In every sense, he had it all—a full, healthy, and prosperous family. But in 2019, after the tragic death of his fourth son—my chacha, and his favourite—things began to change. The loss took a visible toll on him, and with age catching up, his health began to decline more rapidly.

This makes me wonder, no matter what you do in life, it will always come with its own share of problems. There is no shade without the sun. No flowers without rains, and no life without death. While we think of death as opposite to life, but isn't it actually complementary to life? How can I say that Baba is no more, if he was never there. It was his life that makes me sad on his demise.

The Daily Rut

Grandpa was extremely ill since last two months, and both Mom and Dad were super busy in doing whatever they could do to make him better. I was extremely stressed due to a few turbulences in a little side venture I started sometime back.

A lot of these things were going in life when suddenly in the morning of 14th May 2025, I heard the news – Baba is no more.

I frantically left my home in Gurugram, and reached Delhi with a cousin of mine, worried all the while about how I would console my Dad in this tough time. Afterall, he gave his all to make Baba better in the last few months.

It was only in the evening after the cremation that I realised how I have totally forgotten about the daily rut I was stressed about. All the trials and tribulations of life fade away in the face of death.

When you see that body burning on pyre, you realise that you've nothing to lose here, and if you did - the account will be settled on the death bed, not in the living.

We harbour grudges with our friends, family, business partners and who not - but none of that matters in the long run. It's an infinite game, and the more you do for others, the more trust you build.

More the trust, better are your relationships.

Better the relationships, better the life.

Better the life, better the death.

I'll try to keep this lesson with me, always.

He lives until I live.

Given the size of the kingdom grandpa commanded, each of us grandsons didn't get the individual attention usually depicted in folklore between grandsons and grandfather, therefore naturally, I don't recollect many many memories of him or the things he said.

Ofcourse I remember the heated political discussions I had with him and how I explained him what the internet was, but all those memories are too little and too far in the past. But that does not define our relationship.

It's only when he passed away that I realised he had a far bigger impact on me than what any past memory could justify. He gave me the value system I never knew I got from him.

There are a few values that are very dear to me which I'm proud of - vegetarianism, abstaining from drinking and smoking, ethical conduct in matters of money, and regularly visting sages and saints. I had this notion that all of these values are what I imbibed from my parents, but now it occurs to me that these values are more or less present in all of his sons, the whole tribe.

Isn't it fascinating that all of my guiding principles have in some form originated from a man who lived more than eight decades on this planet? If everyone remembers him on his deathbed for the values he held while he lived, then how can he die till the time I practice those values?

He'll die only when I start drinking, he'll die the day I start smoking. The first morsel of animal flesh in my mouth and Baba will cease to exist. Until then, he lives. He lives with all of us, and will continue to live till his values are practiced.

The reader should not get an impression that I'm assuming a moral high ground with these values - these are my values, my Baba's values and the idea is to practice them, not to profess to anyone.

What's fascinating to me is that before adopting any new piece of information or technology, we usually look for a proof of work but with value systems, that proof of work is right in our veins - the elders we have, are living proof of what would work for us in this world and what would not.

The Final Rites

Baba changed a part of me that I never fully accepted while he lived. We are all a product of multiple generations of hardwork and struggle, to not realise the value of your lineage is not harmful to our forefathers but instead a direct question to our living.

Baba you are no more, but you made me realise that I'm nevertheless a product of your hardwork. My Dad who inspires me so much everyday is a culmination of your values. I hope your soul rest in peace, we'll make you proud Baba.

OM SHANTI