On My Grandmother

courtesy: Ramiro Ramirez
courtesy: Ramiro Ramirez
I still remember the last warm hug and the gentle carefree laugh as I left home for office a couple of days prior – didn’t know I won’t be seeing Aaji again. The lightness of her being was evident then. Her eyes, though more unfocused than ever, had a joyful detachment. Her laugh used to flow, it wasn’t the laugh I had heard throughout my childhood – but it was that of a soul who has let go, and is at peace. Quite honestly, my relationship with Aaji had its complications. But she has been an integral part of my life – it was always 5 family members for my school essays, she was always home when I used to be back from school, her food habits and my food habits influenced by her would be a cherished memory. I hadn’t hugged Aaji that often in the last few years. But on that particular day, it was overwhelming love which made me gently hold those frail warm shoulders close. And she laughed, perhaps not really understanding the sudden love. It has always been there, unconditional, but merely hidden in unnecessary biases. My love for Aaji, our love for her, was always there. And we miss her. Every day. We know she is at peace, and we know she is happy.

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