My Grandpa is a treasure of knowledge and wisdom that finds its roots in ancient scriptures and mythology. I love listening to him narrate anecdotes and describe events from the epics like he was a witness to them. When he is not narrating or discussing these things, he is an old man, who feels awfully tired and weak. But when he is The Narrater and the Imparter of his wisdom, he is totally another man. His eyes shine, his back straightens, his voice enraptures and he becomes a part of his story. He cries when he utters the words 0f God. He laughs when his witty lines crack me up. Sometimes, he laughs uncontrollably, holding his stomach, bending over it and laughing away helplessly until he is almost breathless and has to sit up.
I do take notes from his narrations sometimes, and he gifts me some of his old, treasured books every now and then. But the other day, he said, “There is so much I have to share. All of it will get destroyed with me, won’t it dear?”
It won’t. It shouldn’t. The wisdom of our ancestors should be inherited, preserved in books and in the mind. It should be passed on to generations. It shouldn’t die. I won’t let it die. And I’m sure that you, too, have something you could carry for your generations to come. And that they wouldn’t be able to share the wisdom of their fathers would be a great loss. Let’s conserve it. In whatever way we can.
Let’s not let it die.