She was a beautiful, positive and a very strong lady. There was never a dull moment around her. When she laughed, she’d clap her hands and burst out loud. Her hair all silver, and had quite thinned out. Yet, she liked to dress in style. Her eyes were bright and alert. And god, if any one tried hurting her children or her family, her glare was enough to turn a person into pure putty.
This was my grandmother…
She passed away quite recently. And somehow we all knew she was planning her last journey to heaven… She had stopped eating, but still till the end her eyesight and memory was perfect. When I walked into her room, a day prior to her final farewell, she looked at me with a hint of confusion. I had shortened my hair, maybe that’s why…
And then she grasped my hand, and repeated my name over and over again. She playfully felt my face with her hands. They felt a bit cold and coarse. She used to be very diligent about using a cold cream – a brand I cannot recall – which had a white silver tinge to it. She’d then use Cinthol powder. I guess my elder brother had insisted on that over the ‘girlish’ Ponds.
As she lay down on her bed and looked at me I could not bear to see her so old, weak and in pain. She had been bed ridden for the past month and had a whisper of a body. This was a lady who’d walk up and down with a straight back, love to shop, visit new places, make friends every where she’d go and was clearly a party gal.
After I met her, she as per her nature enquired if I had tea… It was crazy and emotional. I had a major break down…nearly lost my breath. It affected my mother, as she held me whispering I get a hold of myself.
The rest of the evening passed without event. She disliked any one of us sitting next to her too long; she did not need pity. Headstrong and stubborn were the other two qualities that perfectly described her.
In the morning she passed away after seeing my father. She had slight smile on her face and looked so at peace. Even in her death, beauty had not evaded her.
Do I wish talk to her again? Yes, of course. I miss her a lot…
She had taught me some old bhajans – something called
‘Baba Damruwale, Nacho na humare angana
Humar agana, Ji humare angana
Baba Damruwale, Nacho na humare angana’
I remember I wanted to run off to play hide-n-seek, but she insisted I learn some songs and train my voice. I had loved the attention, spending time with her. In fact, when we would want to play Antakshari, she’d quickly add bhajans to the list.
She also loved to eat ice-cream and Fun Flips, a common snack back home. Vanilla ice-cream was a huge favourite. If she could, she’d have eaten an entire tub. And could have easily been the brand ambassador for Mother Dairy ice-creams.
Her way at looking at life was very different from the rest. Take for example an incident when we kids wanted to have lemon juice. We were watching an Indiana Jones movie together and Amma mentioned she’d make us lime juice. Now I reminded her that I just had looked in the morning, and had discovered we’d run out of lemons. She looked at me and smiled. No problem, let’s mix water and sugar and drink it now. Let’s not get worried over one missing ingredient.
I loved her, and still do. I always will. And I hope she will too…
This was my grandmother…
She passed away quite recently. And somehow we all knew she was planning her last journey to heaven… She had stopped eating, but still till the end her eyesight and memory was perfect. When I walked into her room, a day prior to her final farewell, she looked at me with a hint of confusion. I had shortened my hair, maybe that’s why…
And then she grasped my hand, and repeated my name over and over again. She playfully felt my face with her hands. They felt a bit cold and coarse. She used to be very diligent about using a cold cream – a brand I cannot recall – which had a white silver tinge to it. She’d then use Cinthol powder. I guess my elder brother had insisted on that over the ‘girlish’ Ponds.
As she lay down on her bed and looked at me I could not bear to see her so old, weak and in pain. She had been bed ridden for the past month and had a whisper of a body. This was a lady who’d walk up and down with a straight back, love to shop, visit new places, make friends every where she’d go and was clearly a party gal.
After I met her, she as per her nature enquired if I had tea… It was crazy and emotional. I had a major break down…nearly lost my breath. It affected my mother, as she held me whispering I get a hold of myself.
The rest of the evening passed without event. She disliked any one of us sitting next to her too long; she did not need pity. Headstrong and stubborn were the other two qualities that perfectly described her.
In the morning she passed away after seeing my father. She had slight smile on her face and looked so at peace. Even in her death, beauty had not evaded her.
Do I wish talk to her again? Yes, of course. I miss her a lot…
She had taught me some old bhajans – something called
‘Baba Damruwale, Nacho na humare angana
Humar agana, Ji humare angana
Baba Damruwale, Nacho na humare angana’
I remember I wanted to run off to play hide-n-seek, but she insisted I learn some songs and train my voice. I had loved the attention, spending time with her. In fact, when we would want to play Antakshari, she’d quickly add bhajans to the list.
She also loved to eat ice-cream and Fun Flips, a common snack back home. Vanilla ice-cream was a huge favourite. If she could, she’d have eaten an entire tub. And could have easily been the brand ambassador for Mother Dairy ice-creams.
Her way at looking at life was very different from the rest. Take for example an incident when we kids wanted to have lemon juice. We were watching an Indiana Jones movie together and Amma mentioned she’d make us lime juice. Now I reminded her that I just had looked in the morning, and had discovered we’d run out of lemons. She looked at me and smiled. No problem, let’s mix water and sugar and drink it now. Let’s not get worried over one missing ingredient.
I loved her, and still do. I always will. And I hope she will too…
