I never met my grandpa on my moms side, but every thanksgiving my mom likes to tell me, my brother, and my sister a little bit about him. He was born into a modest family in a small town in India. When he was around 16, his family fell into hard times because there was some disease spreading through the village. So my grandpa dug a big half hemisphere hole in the ground near his house and decided to grab his dad's motorcycle and take it for a ride. He then began doing tricks in the hole and made it an event. He charged admission for his show and, after a few years, turned his one act into a full blown circus that traveled all across India. Unfortunately he died when my mom was 13, but I always look forward to hearing stories about him on Thanksgiving.
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