Design: Avanti Machado
Our grandmother, who went to meet her Maker in 2000, would have turned hundred this month. Her kindness, gentleness, simplicity, and quiet wisdom continues to inspire all who had known her. Here is a tribute in verse...
Around this
time of the year,
For monsoon
you would prepare
The garden
you held dear,
Pruning to clear
away or share.
Your
silver-white crown studded
With stray
pink cassia blooms,
Your thoughts
with care flooded,
Unaware how
your progeny ‘zooms’.
Suddenly
altogether, we might arrive,
Startling you
out of your reverie.
Dazzling a
gentle smile so naïve,
You would
rise a bit unsteadily.
Then,
pigeon-toed, us you lead
In for some
tea, butters and khappees.
No, no, it’s
too hot, we plead.
How about some
bananas, please?
On the big
family dining table,
Your
handkerchief, large and square,
Holds the
banana bunch in a bundle
Sensibly
breathing some fresh air.
Remembering
something of importance,
Into a
‘secret room’ under the stairs
You go to
fetch a treasure enormous
Of bottled masalas,
pickles, and vinegars.
Taking turns,
we chat about this and that –
An upcoming
wedding (of course!), and food,
Cousins,
friends, a late grandparent…
Someone jokes
to lighten the mood.
In our light
banter and laughter,
Joy and good
health you notice.
There’s no
need to ask or enquire
Our
cheerfulness would suffice.
We introduce you
and tell you tales
Of your
great-grandchildren.
Your maternal
eye adds details
About their
every shenanigan.
You do not
seem surprised
By reports of
our life’s adventures.
As if you had
already visualized
All that
would pass in your prayers.
New beloveds
joined us in two decades
We are
merrier with more volume.
Your comforting
voice gradually fades
Peacefully,
you leave the room.
Your subtle
presence still lingers
It’s in our
essence, genes, DNA.
Your image zooms
in and blurs
We celebrate
your biggest birthday.
……………..
