MY GRANDFATHER DIED A YEAR AGO

My grandfather died a year ago.
I never saw him after he died.
I imagined him on his back.
Laying there. Unmoving; Lifeless.
I never got to see him after he died.
I was too busy with work.
But I could imagine him on his back.
His glasses on his old wrinkled face.
His body, lying there, motionless.
I remembered how he drove me,
in his "buggy;" a volkswagon bug,
with a hand shift at the wheel,
and room for three in the front.
I remembered the hot leather of the front seat
on a warm afternoon in Bombay
and the scattered light streaming in from
the dusty windshield.
I remembered how he was a kind gentle man
who was always too well-treating of his grandchildren.
He always loved it when we came and visited him,
and used to call us "his babies"
My Dada always loved me. Always spoilt me.
And I wish that when I was 5,
I hadn't kicked him in the knee,
for trying to make me clean up my toys.
Copyright ©2005 Ashi Shadow 12/3/05
Note: for historical purposes I should note that it was probably an Ambassador (the car), but for western audiences the buggy makes me more sense (the bug). They're very similar models.