I never thought this day would come… when I’d be posting an article about my granny. My paternal granny. I know that by reading the first line itself, a 100 people are going to be after me with sticks. A 100, or maybe more. My Goodness, as I type this, I realize this is going to be scandalous. At least as far as family is concerned… J
So here goes…(I know I’m probably going back to the same lifeless mode from tomorrow) Till now, not even ONCE did I ever listen to her patiently. Not even once..!! When I’m at home, and only she is there, I’m on the phone. Or I’m studying. OR watching TV. Or reading a book. Or online. I’m doing absolutely everything other than talking to her. Well, I do not regret it. Definitely not. Although I must be sounding like my granny’s granny right now, Life has taught Me never to regret what I’ve done. Neither it helps in the present, nor the future.
Today, I listened to her. I must’ve been looking like an absolute moron, a dud. No replies, silent head shaking to whatever she said. But that certainly doesn’t mean I wasn’t listening. No, I was attentive. Very attentive. But here’s a confession, I listened with so much attention only because she was talking about one of m favourite uncles. Favourite because it amazes Me, his good nature, his sense of humour…
I was listening… Aishwariya Sunder was listening carefully to every single word Lakshmi Kunchithapatham was saying. Aah… who would have thought that would happen now?
She talked… and talked and talked. About her children, their Pune days… Her brother, My father’s cousins. Oh boy! Their childhood had almost nothing other than WORK!!! Except for happiness, for contentment… She remembers those days with fervent interest. All the “getting only *mains* water” “staying awake till late at night cause taata (her husband, my grandpa) had not returned” “talking to her 2nd eldest son” “my dad’s eldest brother’s job”… And then came the sad part… The.. the untimely death of My dad’s brother. She said that she sometimes wishes she left the world instead of Him… His daughter’s extreme attachment to Her. It was a good session. My lunch time, she kept talking and I kept listening.
And then… finally, I looked into her eyes. They weren’t shallow… I looked deep into them. Yeah. There was certainly a hint of Pride. The Pride of having brought up Her children so well… Beneath all those wrinkles, I could see a faint glow. She’d worked. She misses working. But She’s extremely Proud of bringing up those children amidst all the social and financial issues. Yeah, I could see that.
Here I was, a girl, a mere 15 year old. Looking at Her grandma... And here she was, finally having someone to listen to Her.
My hands were unused. They never worked. And her’s were those which had worked day and night. Now it was time for them to rest, time for mine to work…
I was waiting, waiting for the journey of My life to start off… It was Dawn of Life for Me… And the Eve of Life for my Grandma…
