So, Zoya has been drinking up oil(a post by itself) and we've been using up the newspapers our owners gave us like crazy. (We rent now. Sigh. That reminds me I can write about the different types of people I've encountered while house hunting)
We don't buy newspaper in the house so I had to borrow from them again. Their kids got a bundle of newspapers for us and I was taken back in time. (All that write up just to say how and why I was getting a bundle of newspapers)
My grandmother was one of those people who hated to waste things. She'd reuse everything, including the cloth my grandpa's answer papers came wrapped in. Newspaper collection was her pet peeve. She'll arrange it by language because the English paper got us more money by weight than the Tamil one did. She had a system to arrange it and she'll bundle a certain number of papers together to get a kg. When she was satisfied with the weight, she'll call the raddiwala and give it to him and get money. I remember vividly her counting those papers and scolding us if we don't get all the papers to her room( she never lost her temper but you get the drift)
Something small like a bundle of newspapers can make your feel happily sad. I'm happy I have these memories and for a second sad that I can't see the bundle of papers I used to curse her for in her room anymore.