WHEN Sukhdev Chamoli's 87-year-old father died, he was overwhelmed with grief. He too is an elderly 67. His mother had died some years before. “She used to say, die today and tomorrow is another day, which means the dead are soon forgotten,” recalls Chamoli.
But he wanted to do something to preserve the memory of his parents. Chamoli says his father was a very hardworking man though somewhat quarrelsome. He spent long hours tending to his small 0.2-hectare terraced field, mostly to irrigate it. Chamoli also remembered him as a loving father. . .
