My grandfather who saw through most of the 20th century, someone who was highly expressive yet quiet; one who taught us to be firm, to stand and lead in the times of crisis, one who moved mountains during the Indian Independence movement as my grandma used to narrate his stories; my grandfather was a formidable figure in his younger years, one who was known to attract problems only to solve them like a pro, one who knew how to remain content. He was probably the first one who enticed me into smoking a hookah, an old Indian way to smoke a water-pipe. He loved nature and above all his teak tree under which he sat and slept for over five decades. Here with my Road to Nara family, I wanted to share that my grandfather died last month on the auspicious day of Diwali in the early hours of dawn. Partially, it was the reason for my absence from the site. Even though it was strange how people and even in the family were waiting …