I still remember how Grandpa would bring ’S’ letter-shaped rings for me and my sister. Every time we visited Kadapa during the holidays, he made sure the pantry was stocked with our favorite treats: gold coin-shaped chocolates, lollipops, Toblerone bars, and chips. He had a special knack for making our visits magical, with board games, video games, and movie DVDs waiting for me and my cousins. He even taught us new games, always keeping our minds and hearts engaged.

Before Diwali, Grandpa would gather all of us, make us sit in a row, and carefully distribute crackers, making sure everyone got an equal share. I’ll never forget the time he brought Power Ranger Dino Morphers for all of us—it was one of the best surprises! Whenever he came across new toys or chocolates, he’d buy them without a second thought. Going to Kadapa became the best holiday for us, filled with excitement, warmth, and endless surprises.

One day, while we were on our way to the market, Grandpa stopped near a house and greeted the family inside. He asked them what they needed from the market, and we both went to pick up the items they requested. When we returned and handed over the goods, I asked him why he did this. He told me that his friend was bedridden, and he made sure they got whatever they needed from outside. That moment showed me how deeply he cared for others, going out of his way to help without expecting anything in return.

Every evening, Grandpa would sit outside in his chair listening to old songs, and everyone who passed by the house would stop to greet him. It was a testament to the love and respect he shared with everyone in the community. His warmth and kindness reached everyone he met.

Every day, Grandpa would head out on his Scooty, returning with little surprises for us. The honk of his horn was our signal to rush outside and carry the bags inside, eager to see what he’d brought. At 4 PM sharp, he would cut up a fruit and hand it to us, a small but cherished ritual. He was the one who made us sit down and practice our multiplication tables, helped us with math, telugu and introduced us to the wonderful world of books. I’ll never forget the day he gave me my first copies of the Ramayana, Mahabharata, and works by Sri Sri. Thanks to him, I discovered my love for Telugu literature.

He loved people deeply. He was always there for anyone who needed him, and I felt honored to be by his side. I loved riding on his Scooty; everywhere we went, people greeted him with respect. He would introduce me proudly, and they would often say, "Sir is a great man." He wasn’t just known in the community—he was cherished.

He spoiled us with love and food. When we visited during the holidays, he made sure to get me koova and my sister gulab jamun. Morning at 7 AM, he’d go out to get mutton biryani for me. If I wasn’t in the mood for homemade food, he would bring dosa or even pani puri, chicken lollipops, pizza, and samosas. He introduced us to so many new fruits and foods. Most of my cousins and I learned to ride a two-wheeler on his Scooty. I still smile remembering how he once wrote an essay for my Hindi competition, and I won a prize because of it.

He was more than just a family man; he had a natural ability to connect with everyone around him. Whenever we moved to a new place, he would come and make sure everything was arranged, helping us settle in. He would explore the neighborhood, find where everything was available, and make it familiar for us. In one of the places we lived, he even helped develop a local park. He was the chief guest when they conducted a donation drive. Grandpa had this rare gift of making new friends wherever he went. I’m not sure if people remember us from the places we lived, but they certainly remember him. He made an impression that lasted.

He loved everyone equally and believed deeply in humanity, not in religion or gods. My grandpa wasn’t just a man who gave us memories; he gave us lessons in life, love, and kindness. He was, and always will be, an extraordinary soul.