Grand Mother

As a part of the Write Tribe Festival of Words which kickstarts 1^st September and will go on till September 7, I am writing about the 7 relations in my life, without even one of them my life would lose its meaning. These seven people are very dear to me and I hold them very close.

Grand Mother - 

Hi Baa!!!(that’s what we gujjus fondly call our granny) I used to shout everyday when I was back from work. Then we would have our long chats, gossips and cribbing sitting on the terrace. That was our daily ritual.

That day she was sitting on her favorite chair. But I was in awe when I saw her as I entered the house. She was wearing a cobalt blue saree with floral design which had a silver border. She had complimented it with a hexagon diamond studded pendant at the centre of a platinum necklace. I was very pleased to see her in that avatar. She suddenly looked a decade younger. She had just returned from the get-together of the ladies of our community and the theme was ‘back to the golden days’. They were required to carry a picture of their younger days and dress similar to that picture of theirs. In this amusement we shifted to the terrace for our daily round chatter.

Sensing my tacit impatience she said that’s my picture of early days after marriage son, I was the president of the women’s cell of our community and was at its annual meet when this picture was clicked. You looked breathtakingly beautiful Baa I murmured to myself and she loving embraced me into her arms and pecked my cheek. I rest there in her comforting brace and soaked in the warmth of fostering bosom.

She always understood what I wanted, never had I to tell her a thing. She was there to talk to me, when I needed to talk to when I was sad, scared, upset of just anything like that. She would listen to whatever I wanted to say. She understood me as young kid who hated going to school and wanted to play all day long. She took care of the adolescent lad and made sure he did not fall prey to the changes of heart. For me she was all I needed. For all my questions she had appropriate answers. She quenched the thirst of the wandering and restless young mind. Whatever she did was very precise, articulate and as beautiful as her. Whatever she touched turned into a masterpiece. She would turn worn out things into absolute treasure. As a child my craft was a big headache and she was my ultimate savior. She was particular and precise in everything from waste papers, to used match sticks and ice-cream sticks, to brooms sticks and old furniture and marbles she would design and turn them into wonderful things. Everything she did was so beautiful and so perfect. From manicuring the terrace plants, to cooking her special daal, from weaving woolens for the toddlers, wearing her sarees in a particular style, putting on her vermillion and bindi, she had a unique and standout style.

Upbringing off six children and a joint family to cater. With guests increasing by the day and money was always scant. But still would posses her calm and never crib. A smile would always rest on her lips.

But on that fateful day god took her away. It was just a day short of my 24^th birthday :(

Sitting on her favorite chair,

at the door,

she would stare,

thinking  of her younger days

when she first entered in,

crossing the doorstep

all of sixteen

The house, into home,

Single handedly she had build,

the joy and the pain,

of her first born child,

watching them play,

wondering how fast they grew

vanished all her bane

upbringing six children

and joint family to cater,

with increasing guests

by the day, money was always scanter,

full of worries was her platter,

but still would linger

her tranquil and calmer

her plants were missing her touch,

the house gods searching for her hums,

she has gone and I’m left sad,

but I remember, of me,

how proud she felt,

once again that makes me glad !!!

Love you BAA

~ KARAN

Write Tribe Festival of Words