Amma, my grandmother, passed away in October last year. She was an extraordinary woman who inspired strength and goodness in those around her. Her simple pieces of advice were full of good sense and will guide us grandchildren through our entire lives. If I have taken and held even a small part of her into my being, I shall consider myself fortunate.
These words will probably be understood best by my cousins, but are probably true for all those lucky enough to have had their grandparents shower love on them through a wonderful childhood...
A few choice words, some muttering,
A lot of hard work, very little rest,
A pound of sugar, perfect parathas,
Pillar of the home, weaver of the nest...
Long dark hair, very kind eyes,
Little golden bangles, a funny gait,
Flowers in the hair, streaks of pink,
Strength herself, not subdued by fate...
Strange fears, like lice and dirt,
Mock strictness, some threats hollow,
Blind affection, the latent pain,
So many lessons, some words to follow...
Lavish gifts, such thoughtful acts,
Grandchild's heaven, warmth of that lap,
Mangoes, jalebi, kulfis in the fridge,
Vacation smells, snuggled afternoon nap...
Diwali lights, bright Rangoli colours,
Look of pride, nod of silent approval,
Sweet and sour daal, gallons of ghee,
Breakfasts in bed, sweet world unreal...
Widened eyes, serious reprimands,
Few quiet words that went home straight,
Belief in each child's goodness though,
Through revolts, tantrums and words of hate...
Bhajiwalas stop, Old Men's joint,
Banter, gossip and cups of tea,
Fights with the maid, grudging trust,
Cold lemonades from a mud surayi...
Furious rants and the trademark snort,
Mole on the nose, rasping laugh,
How could she go and leave us in pain?
Without her, home will not be home again...
