Tata’s Cot: A Treasured Spot
Cosied in the quiet nook of our boisterous living room was a little, plain cot. To many, it might have seemed like just another piece of vintage furniture, a memento of times gone by. But to me, that cot was the center of my childhood — a place of deep emotional bonding and the cornerstone of my most treasured memories. From a pin to a plane, everything seemed magically available on that cot.
My actual school was that little cot, while most kids went to official classrooms to pick up their studies. Tucked in Tata’s(Grandpa’s) consoling hug, I absorbed the most important lessons life offers. From my first taste of coffee to my first piece of food and from my first written word, he was my companion, guide, and teacher who silently instilled profound and practical learning.
Cot was my quiet sanctuary where I was taught everything from plumbing to planting, and from understanding electricity to unraveling the mysteries of batteries. It was there that I learned about medicines and meditation, perfected the art of housekeeping to book keeping, navigated the complexities of networking and hosting, and nurtured my emotional intelligence.
The connection I forged in that space was unparalleled; the real-life lessons absorbed there were imbued with a strength and clarity that far surpassed any digital network. It was a steadfast and lightning-fast connection, a bond to wisdom and experience that no Wi-Fi or artificial intelligence could ever replicate.
He was my safe haven, my coffee buddy, and my hiding place when I ran afoul of rules. Through stories, experiences, and the soft rhythm of his voice, he taught me ideals I still carry dear to this day. Every morning I looked up him; I like to think I was his beloved friend as well.
Grandpa and I would lie on the cot every evening as the golden sunlight danced across the drapes. He would pull out a worn-old book with frayed corners and pages, and we would travel magic together. Every narrative, spun with the strands of creativity and love, taught bravery, compassion, and fortitude. Our classroom was the cot; the stories we studied were our road map; Grandpa’s knowledge was the lighthouse guiding me.
That cot was the holy ground where the actual core of emotional attachment developed, not only a venue for knowledge and storytelling. I felt the warmth of pure love and the protection of a link unbreakable in Grandpa’s cot. It was where we laughed together over his lighthearted pranks and where he gently but with callused hands brushed away my tears.
As Grandpa narrated his life’s events on that cot, I discovered the need of empathy since his voice sounded with both pride and humility. As he talked of his childhood, his dreams, and the lessons he discovered along the road, I listened with great interest. Every narrative was a thread pulling us together and building a network of love and understanding to help me through my life.
One of the most permanent features of Grandpa’s cot was the distinct scent around it. Old wood, new linens, and a trace of raisns — the aroma of the dhoop he used every morning — were a consoling mix. That scent brought home, of safety, of the many happy and comforting times we had together.
The scent still carries me back to those peaceful afternoons, sitting on the cot with my head resting on Grandpa’s chest and listening to his steady heart. It was a beat that suggested affection, a steadiness in a society sometimes erratic and chaotic. The scent served as a sensory cue of a time when life was simpler and love was felt profoundly and freely offered.
My lessons on that cot went beyond the pages of storybooks or Grandpa’s old recollections. These were teachings of the heart, taught in the daily events we shared. Grandpa diligently helped me with my homework, his brow wrinkled in concentration as if my problems were his own. I came to know patience. As he related his struggles with hardship, I discovered resilience — that strength was about always getting back up rather than about never falling.
Above all, I came to see the force of love. Grandpa’s love was a calm, consistent energy that surrounded me and gave me value and clarity. It was a love that called for the basic act of being present, of listening, and of profoundly caring — not for spectacular actions or statements.
The teachings I discovered on Grandpa’s cot were the cornerstone of my life as I became older. My compass has been his moral compass — integrity, compassion, and tenacity. Our emotional link has grown to be a source of strength and a reminder that, no matter how difficult life’s problems seem, I am never alone.
Though Tata and the cot are no longer with me, their legacy remains ever-present in my heart. The treasures from those cherished days with Grandpa — the lessons learned and the love we shared — are the foundations of my character, guiding my actions and relationships. Even now, I haven’t truly mourned his passing, as the moments we spent together were filled with a sense of timeless stability. In his embrace, time seemed to pause, making him as eternal as the golden memories we wove together. In the corner of my heart, I hold the belief tight that one day we will reunite, where our bond will transcend time and space, and we will continue our journey together again.
Grandpa’s cot was more than simply furniture; it was a haven, a classroom, and evidence of the strength of love that would last always. It was where I acquired the most important lessons of life and where I found the world seen through the eyes of a wise and loving spirit.
I still find myself yearning for the simplicity of those days spent on Grandpa’s cot even today as I negotiate the complexity of life. This was a place where I felt totally at ease, surrounded by love and where every moment had significance and direction.
Though Grandpa’s cot might have been modest and humble, to me it was the universe. It was a place of knowledge, of love, and of enduring relationships. And a monument to the amazing power of Tata’s love, the memories of that cot and the lessons I learnt there will always be a beloved part of who I am.
