Tribute to my Grandmother

I wish all my readers a very happy 2018 to you and your family. Hope this year brings with it success, positivity, resilience, growth and give you the strength to go out of your comfort zone and reach your goals. I  solemnly swear that I have been up to no good so far (Yes, Harry Potter reference ) and I hope that I break this monotonous cycle of lazily being an adult that I have gotten myself into.

This post is very personal and close to my heart because it is about my grandmother (May her soul rest in peace), and how I lost my bond with her over the years.

Personally for me, 2017 ended and 2018 started on a great note until my dad called me in the evening of 3^rd January 2018 to tell me that my grandmother (my mother’s mother) passed away. She was my last remaining grandparent and I had lived with her when I was young. With these years, I have come to realize that everything makes more sense and you realize the importance of people in your life as you grow old and start trying to “adult” (around 23 years onwards).

As soon as my dad told me the details,  I was in denial I told him all the reasons I could think of to justify why nothing could have happened to her like she was in good health, she seemed healthy last time my mom went to see her and many more reasons. Then like quicksand, I got swamped by the emotion I was denying – Regret. Till that moment, I have never encountered regret and it was my own guilt and disappointment at not meeting my grandmother for the past 11 years when deep down I have been wanting to but was put off by different people and scenarios. As well as the fact that I was not adamant about my desire to meet her. I had numerous excuses which at that point of time felt like justifiable reasons as to why I didn’t go meet her - like us being in different countries, my grandmom staying at one of my relatives home to whom we are not on talking terms and us not having the privacy to talk to her and so on.

But the moment I learned that she is no longer with us and that I had blown off my chance to take a flight down to see her. It dawned on me that, I will no longer be able to see her kind smile and be enveloped in the warmth of her hug ever again. That is when I realized how bad a granddaughter I have been, and that I should have gathered up the courage to go and see her even though situations/people deterred me. I am really sorry Amooma (that’s how I call her…or called her :( ).

My Amoooma

All the fond memories I have with her came flooding back like it was just yesterday when I went to India for my vacation in 3^rd grade. As soon as the car stopped at the entrance to our house, I stepped out to look around and was grabbed into the tightest hug with lots of kisses all over my face. My grandmother was radiating joy and affection as she held me in her arms and called my name. That is when I saw her wide smile which made her eyes cringe, her silver greying hair tied up in a knot, her blue and white stoned nose stud and most of all her kind face. She brought with her the smell of smoke from the wood stove (chulha ) and the fragrance of the meal she was preparing –that is my favorite memory of meeting her after growing up to an age where I can remember details.

Spending vacations in a village meant a drastic change in the lifestyle I was used to living in Dubai. For two months in a year, the apartment corridors would be replaced by vast open fields and courtyards where you could listen to the tree branches swishing, men discussing politics and news in the tea shop, cows mooing on their way to the pond to be washed and ladies haggling with the vegetable/ fish vendors. I would wake up early, run to my grandparent’s home in my imaginary scooter, and sit on the kitchen floor licking off Complan from a plate while watching my grandmother cut vegetables using a sickle. My evenings were filled with lighting the lamp and having vibhuthi (sacred ash) applied on my forehead and forearms by my grandmother while my grandfather would read the Ramayana (An epic poem read in Hindu households).

My grandmother was a strong woman who lost both her parents when she was young and was raised by her brothers; she was entrepreneurial as well as independent all her life. Even though my grandfather had a grocery store and they could live a good life, she also had her own firewood-selling shack in the backyard to earn extra income for the family and that was her path to financial independence. She would tell me stories of her childhood as we made newspaper covers in the light of the kerosene lamp to sell grains in the shop, that was what we used long before plastic packaging came into place. She also took care of her farm animals like her children; to her, they were also her family. She would give me a goat and a calf to take care of, whenever I stayed with her for the holidays. For someone who does not see animals other than stray cats and camels all through the year, this was a welcome change . Unknowingly she was developing an affinity for animals in me.

That's my Grandfather and Grandmother from my mother's side. They played a big role in making me who I am today as I stayed with them during my formative years.

I have seen her attend to a cow giving birth even though she has never learned any veterinary science, swing her axe with grace whether she was cutting firewood or jackfruit and complete anything that she has to do however tedious it is, without relying on a man. She taught me to do many things like – build a temporary stove with stones and firewood,   make brooms from palm leaves, reignite a fire by blowing into glowing charcoal, how to grind rice in an aatukal(a manual stone grinder) ,  how to get banana to ripen by placing it in a granary (pathayam)  which was used in the olden days for storing rice and grains. how to make a spoon from the leaves of the jackfruit tree and many more which I would probably never use in my life but does show me where my roots come from and warm my heart with nostalgia. She also taught me to be resilient and independent (generally & financially) with the way she led her life and proved to me that you can be humble, kind and still badass.

I am welling up with sadness and anger (at myself) as I am trying to finish this tribute to my grandmother because I could write so much more. If there is one message I wish to convey, it is to never take anyone in your life for granted. The joy you bring to your grandparents and parents by just visiting them and spending time with them is something we may not realize now until we are in their shoes. With our loved ones entering old age and us occupied with our professional/personal lives, the distance is widening and every minute we spent talking to them and sharing their chores, without our mobile phones or any other distraction will definitely lift their spirits and cheer them up. If you cannot be physically near them, then a phone call/ video call will also make them happy.

This tribute is my humble way of remembering my grandmother for the wonderful woman she was. I am going to carry my regret as I already I miss her so much and this will serve as a reminder to me of how important it is to value people in your life when you have the chance.

Courtesy : http://www.iliketoquote.com  

So dear readers we all have grandparents who spoilt us, guide us and are our source of strength. I would love to hear from all of you, as always let me know your viewpoints on what I have written as well.

So cherish your loved ones and shower your love on them and Carpe Diem!