The filter coffee aroma filling the air in the busy streets of Chennai blended with idli being served at roadside stalls. On those very streets lived an old auto driver, Thatha Rangan, along with his grandson, Surya Surya’s parents had passed away in an accident when he was a child, so his grandfather took care of him. Even though Thatha Rangan was old and his body was weak, he worked hard every day, driving his auto through the crowded streets to earn money for their food and rent Surya had finished his college degree. He was trying to land in a good job that would improve both his and his grandfather’s life. But months gone by without results. All his interviews ended with the same answer “We will let you know.” That evening surya sat outside their small home, staring at the floor.  “What happened kanna?” Thatha Rangan asked, who had returned after a long and tiring day. Surya went on to explain “Thatha, I got rejected again today,” adding “And Jenny hasn’t spoke to me for weeks. Maybe she thinks I am not good enough because there is no job. Maybe she does not love me anymore. I don’t know Thatha what is love” Laughing softly, Thatha Rangan pats him on the shoulder saying, “One day you will understand kanna.” The summer that year was very hot and it was hard to sleep at night in the small house and it felt like oven especially during power cuts. But like always, Thatha Rangan would sleep on a rug next to Surya, waving the hand fan gently so he could rest, even though Thatha himself stayed awake in the heat. One evening, Thatha Rangan came home very tired. His shirt soaked in full sweat and his hands trembled as he poured water from the tumbler. Surya noticed. “Thatha, you don’t look well,” he said, worried. “It’s just a little tiredness from driving all day, kanna,” Thatha Rangan replied with a weak smile. But that night, his condition worsened. His breathing became heavy and he couldn't get up. Surya rushed to his side panicking . “Thatha, I will call the doctor!” he cried. Thatha slowly shook his head and held Surya’s hand. “Kanna, do you remember asking me what love is?” Surya nodded with tears in his eyes. Thatha smiled weakly. “Love is not about getting someone talking to you. It is not about money or status. Love is when you care for someone more than yourself. It is when their happiness means more to you than your own.” Surya sobbed, holding his grandfather’s hand tightly. “Then, Thatha… I love you.” Thatha Rangan closed his tired eyes with a peaceful smile on his face. “Yes, kanna… love is all about caring.” The next morning, the streets of Chennai remained as busy as ever. But inside a small home, a young man sat beside his grandfather, holding his hand, now still and lifeless, but with full of love. By, Gowtham