Good old friend
A long time ago when I was a kid living far away from India I had a friend to whom I used to write letters and would wait for weeks to hear back from. The mere sight of his letters would bring joy to me. The envelope with my name on it and an Indian postal stamp on it meant happiness out of this world. Of course the stamp on the envelope served no purpose as it was delivered by hand by either relatives or friends coming back from India. It was a gift from my friend who knew I was fond of collecting stamps. This friend is my grandpa. I was young when my dad’s parents passed away in the early 90s. As I remember, when dad’s mother passed away many of dad’s friends came to our home to give their condolences to dad. I was too young to understand about death. And so I grew up under the love of my mom’s parents who loved me like crazy since I was their first grandchild. My first friend would probably be my dad from whom I derived inspirations and then mom from whom I derived l