Recently, there was 'Grandparents Day', celebrations at my daughter's school and because of some or the other reason both set of grandparents could not make it for the celebrations. So the onus of attending the function came on me. It was a simple but such a sweet celebration, where grandparents and children were made to do some activities together along with dancing and visiting the class. After which all of us left for our respective places with our wards.
This event left me nostalgic, taking me down the memory lane- made me think about my childhood , in a flash, a large collage of happy and smiling faces with carefree attitude came in front of my eyes. Yes those were the best days of my life and of course anybody would agree with me on that . There is no place like grandparents home and there is no one like grandparents, after all they are more grand than our parents in every aspect of life.
My Hamirpur wali Mummy, that's what I called her as she spent 50 precious years of her life there at that place after her marriage, So she loved to be associated with that place rather being called as Nani.
An old but hyperactive lady , she was. My grandmother. I still remember the glint in her eyes when ever Dev Anand or Nutan appeared on the television. Her excitement knew no bounds when anybody gifted her a new suit piece and straight she went to the tailor for getting it stitched .
The most fond memories are of vacations, during which the table would groan under the weight of delicacies served and on top of that an additional scoop of Ghee being added to it.
We cousins would romp freely without any constraints, and that extra pampering by mummy was icing on the cake. With immense patience she did her house-hold chores, her cooking for such a huge family, that too on a chulha and with cow dung ca
kes being used as fuel was never a tedious task for her, but rather she enjoyed the whole thing. During rains when the ceiling made up of granite rocks dripped, she did not lose calm and this did not dampen her spirits to cook for the family.
Her buffalo-shed was her favorite Adda(place) where she spent hours in service of her black-beauty. Getting up early with the chirping of early morning birds. Serving hot paranthas on the cot to every one, methodically cleaning, chopping of vegetables of her kitchen garden, the green chutney made by her in motor and pestle using various herbs and spices........yes she ruled our hearts, hearth and home.
Her wrinkled yet charming face, her heena dyed hair, her laboured breathing which was as persistent as the sound of a river, her love for gold, her passion to do things with perfection whether it was cooking, knitting, pickling was beyond compare. She never went to school but handled all the worldly virtues and vices so well.
Like me most of the people must have experienced and shared the same feelings with their grandparents. How can we forget the most treasured moments which have now become memories for us, how can we forget the Golden period of our lives.
But now she is gone, no where to be seen and heard ,has left an indelible mark on my life, how can I forget her unwavering love. Her wrinkled face is still so fresh in memories after so many years . Her short and frail stature, her combing of hair in the Sun while I dozed in her laps at times. She was my ALLADIN'S Lamp where no wish remained unfulfilled. A huge portrait of Baba Balak Nath in her room, of whom she was an ardent devotee; of whom she narrated stories during the bed-time. Apart from this, her other stories were equally amazing, I would not be incorrect if I referred to her as a female Tom Sawyer. Her anecdotes always sent me to a magical world.
I still remember how at the age of sixty-five she learned to dial the land line numbers from me, I wondered if she was a grandmother or just a over grown teenager, who had so much zest to live and learn about life.
But eventually, the most dreadful day came, when her never say die spirit or never to loose heart, lost to her heart-attack. A person who gave a hearty laugh to grim matters ,lost her life to her heart problem, despite of fighting brave till the last she gave up. From Hamirpur she was taken to Mohali where she breathed her last, and home they brought the warrior dead............yes back to Hamirpur covered in a white sheath .
But despite of seeing her go away like this, She will always be remembered for fun and good time I shared with her because, despite of her on going struggles, she never missed a chance to spread happiness and love .Displaying true character of a woman. Love you !!Miss you!! Happy Women'Day