Grandma’s Tale

It’s a story and yet not fiction…you guessed it right, it’s a Grandma’s tale!

It’s a good time to share our stories with our children.
A great time to share stories of difficult times that parents, grandparents went through and their learning from it.
Grandma stories are necessary, they build resilience and character.
Living as nuclear families our kids are devoid of these crucial learnings.
We shy away from telling them of pain and suffering fearing it will upset them.
We have created this bubble and now when this bubble is at risk of explosion, high time we gently prick it ourselves, comforting them ,that pain is inevitable, suffering is a choice. They need to know that their families have endured crisis and came out of them strong and thriving.

My grandmother would tell me about India-Pakistan partition and her pain and anguish at leaving parents, relatives, home & belongings and moving country in dead of the night. She lost many of her loved ones in the racial riots.

She would talk about the new beginning that she was forced to make on arriving in refugee camp.

So many nights under the stars she would relive those moments while telling us , grandchildren,about her life before partition, luxurious and pampered , in Veer Zara (movie) style she wouldn’t keep feet on ground if there wasn’t someone to place slippers under her feet.
All the jewellery and the fine clothes that her doting parents and in-laws got her. The white horses the family had and the free bird that she was.
Everything , every bit of it taken away in one night.
She would cry whenever we watched a Hindi serial on partition called Tamas.
She would recall the days that followed on arriving in India, the struggle, loss and grief that wouldn’t leave her for years to come.

It’s not always that she would share details from life in Lahore.
She was also very firmly planted in present. She was a loving mom to my dad and his siblings. She was adored by all her grandchildren.
She enjoyed being fussed over by my mother and my aunts who took their role as serving daughters-in-law very seriously. Our grandmother decided what should be cooked , if she fancied paranthas we got paranthas if she was unwell and wanted khichdi, well that’s what we would make do with. She was the Boss of our family. She commanded respect, her word on anything was final.

She looked royal and pristine in white. Her wrinkled face and white hair would add to her princess look. I am yet to meet anyone as beautiful as my grandmother.

She shared her love for God with me. She was a Radha swami and would attend satsangs every Sunday. She would take the Sangat bus and my dad would push me to go along as he feared she would be alone. I would sit with her in satsangs all day not understanding a word as it was all in heavy accented Punjabi.
Years later I realised that subconsciously I had soaked it all in as I could recall any shabad without effort.
I would wake up what felt like in middle of the night to find her sitting up and meditating.
Naam cassettes played in the background every morning.
She planted in me a seed that would blossom in times of challenges. I would find my faith in God intact whenever life threw a curve ball.

Everything was so perfect in my world that her stories , felt like stories, unreal! Did she endure all of it and still managed to raise successful kids who built again all that was lost.

Knowing her story has kept me humbled and hopeful. I am an optimist who can spot a silver lining to each cloud.
I know dawn follows the dusk and the human spirit is uncrushable.

The only conflict I had with her was on curtains yes the humble drapes of our house , I liked the house cool & dark and would draw them , she liked it warm ,sunny & bright and would pull them apart.Night times were peace times.

My grandmother passed away when I was 22, I am lucky to have had spent so many years with her. It was first day at my first job when she left this world, she prepared me to step out in the world with firm understanding of life. DadiMa’s stories have given me a stock of sunshine that I pull out in dark times.

I want to now share this story with my kids, family & friends, so that they can find hope when there appears to be none , I finally give in to her wish , ending the quibble , pulling apart the curtains for the light to pour in, she liked it Sunny and Bright ☀️