My Grandfather
In Delhi,
The first lathe machine installer,
Lala Jaydayal, my grandfather,
Had a factory at Ajmeri Gate.
Counted among Delhi's elites,
in 1940, he owned
A horse carriage and a motor car.
The family went on outings to India Gate.
Now, bankrupt,
Residing in a makeshift attic,
I fetched cold water
From the neighborhood well for him.
His story was full of pain.
Even now, sometimes,
He donned his staff and hat,
Ventured to the market,
And brought back dates.
No one called him ‘Sir’ anymore.
The shops at Hauz Qazi sold off,
The factory gone,
Grandfather had forgotten to smile.
I still wonder
How a Delhi aristocrat
Became obscure.
Now, no one remembers his name.
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