My first stories, my first songs, the first words I said, the first alphabets I formulated.. she taught me all. And with it, she imparted to me several minuscule lessons of life, admonitions of the dark, appreciation of the light and recognition of the disparity between them.
But.. she wasn’t there when I got my first degree or when I got my first job. And she won’t be there when I get my PhD or when I win my first award. Neither would she be there when I get married or have my first child… well not physically at least. But in spirit, she looks upon me and shares every trivial achievement of my life.
In every milestone of my life, I see her in the crowd. In my dark times, I see her in the shadows. And in a crisis, I hear her voice, leading me out of it. When she left us, I did not cry. I did not feel her absence. I did not feel the void. In my mind I always envisaged her as I had always seen her.. powerful. In my heart I always felt her presence.
She was the first representation of a Monarchy I apprehended. With an invisible wand she governed her dominion with an almost-dictator-like regimen for over half a century. And she harboured an unbiased and unanimous affection for all her subjects. But she fostered each one as they were worthy of. And ever since I can recollect, I blissfully wallowed in the status of ‘The Cherry On Top’. She was the first Visionary I met, who always looked at the big picture, at the greater good, rather than the instantaneous joy ride or a sweet treat. She was the first moral of Justice I learnt. In my eyes she was always as fair as practically possible to everyone in one way or the other. Justice is not only blind itself but also invisible sometimes. She was the first embodiment of Perfection I witnessed. The spread of her sheet.. or the alignment of her jars, the pleats of her Saree.. or the braids in her hair, her hospitality.. or even her hostility.. marked perfection in highlighted bold letters.
She was the first epitome of Rationality and Acumen I discerned. Amidst a crisis, when all the young and dynamic lot gave in to utter desperation, she was always calm and collected. With her apparent phlegmatic approach she always held the boat afloat. She was the first lesson of Independence I imbibed. In the phase of life when all her contemporaries had given in either to younger generations or to modern day machines, with a little difficulty she skilfully managed her everyday regime, well with the occasional exception of a glass of water. She was the first paragon of Determination that I perceived. The bane of age and deteriorating physical state could never dwindle her avidity or diligence. Fixing-up things here and there around the house.. to erecting a fairly huge edifice in the middle of nowhere.. she did it all.. when and how she wanted to. At times, she was a little too headstrong and persistent. And some of her ventures may have seemed pretty irrational and futile, but in a free world, those were her choices.
They say there are some people who shine like a Star to impart light to the world. But there are also others who like the Earth, bounty and flourishing, yet unkempt and downtrodden, lay beneath our feet to provide hearth for us to grow and flourish. And such was my Grandmother, teaching the lessons of life to many, yet inconspicuous and unappreciated.
I know a thousand hands may stand up to disagree, but that is her in my eyes.
And ‘To Be Great is To Be Misunderstood.’ (Ralph Waldo Emerson).
I might be naïve, prejudiced or blinded in love, but I am sure that nothing I have said here is untrue.
“In retrospection, I am grateful to you for pulling up my flat and stubby Nose every second when I was little, and today if it stands sharp and smooth its only because of you and your unmatched efforts. And I regret not expressing myself when I could, for I had no clue Time would fall short.”
In every failure, in every success.. in light, in darkness.. in joy, in sadness.. I shall always remember you fondly.
To come and go.. is Life. But to live in one’s heart forever.. is Love.
