Say Hello and Wave Goodbye

So, yesterday I went to Thane. To say hello to some old neighbors. To say goodbye to one.

You see my old neighbor, Uncle Cyril D’cruz, passed away a few weeks back. And I dedicate this post to his memory. I went to visit his wife, Maria and daughter Alisha.

If you had known me as a child, you, like me, would have known what a happy teddy bear or panda looks like. Like Uncle D’cruz. With his big burly frame. Curly hair which turned salt and pepper even back then. A ready smile, laughter or joke. Allways the first to help. Never upset or angry or stressed out. Never ever. I don’t have a single memory of him like that.

During vacations, the D’cruz house door and our main door were always left wide open or slightly ajar. This was to facilitate the movement of little Miss Alisha D’cruz who reigned supreme over both these households.

But it is the first day of every vacation that I want to tell you about. Every child waits for this day, I am sure. But every child does not have Uncle D’cruz as neighbor you see. Come that day, he would throw open his cassette shelves and VHS shelves and bookshelves. My greedy eyes and hands were welcome to all the loot that I could carry. As many as I liked? Even that one? And this, uncle? Yes, as many as you want, my dear. For as long as you want.

It was D’cruz Uncle who introduced me to country music. Don Williams’ Café Carolina was my first country listening. John Denver. Johnny Cash. Kenny Rogers. Jim Reevs. They all followed. It was D’cruz Uncle who gave Joy (my brother) and me Tom & Jerry VHS’ to watch again and again. Any party in their house and I would be happily invited, handed a glass of port wine and expected to join in. My first taste of Goan Sausages came from there. And all the Mount Mary and Christmas goodies that I could stuff my face with.

Birthdays and Diwali, I have unfailingly received a card, or a message or a call from them. I have been remiss in not remembering to do this consistently. I hope to be better now.

Uncle D’cruz passed away on July 3rd. The stomach cancer was in its fourth stage when detected. He did not feel a thing before that. And it put paid to his life within a matter of a few months. He must have suffered some pain. But he did not suffer long.

Yesterday was Sunday. And once again I was in the D’cruz household. We all spoke nineteen to the dozen. Lots of laughter. Years of catching up. Lots of tears. Lots of promises to not lose touch again. I missed Uncle D’cruz. If he was around, it would have been a party. With country music and wine and beer. And a table-full of good food. Because that’s the kind of person he was. His eyes twinkled at us from the frame. The smile still the same. The hair had become a silver halo. I imagined he was happy to see us. It felt that way.