My Grandma has had a profound influence on the family. Each one of us remember her in our own very special way. Each one of us have had life changing experiences with her over time. She was a very strong and mostly stubborn woman. Her likes are dislikes were known atleast a couple of miles around the town :) She rarely ventured out of our house, except to collect her pension and do the prescribed rounds of the temples. When she came back once from her trip to the pension office, she told me how she would wait for someone tall and wide to cross the street before her, and the moment she found someone fitting this description, she would quickly cling on to the stranger and ask for help in crossing the street. Sometimes she would have to wait for as much as 30 minutes before she could find someone who would help her cross the streets.
Indian streets are a desolate story. I am happy that lord Hanuman always protected here from traffic accidents.
For as long as I remember, I have stopped whatever I drive for the old and the very young. My grandma lives in all.
I have looked at myself
From the edges of reason
That both my sanity and insanity
Springs forth like seasons
Out of my distances from you.
I have allowed the outer rims
Of my diffused sanity
To fritter away into crumbs
Of misplaced memories
From my time with you.
I have often found myself being unreasonable
When I am away from you.
And generally insane
When it was time for her to go, it was also time for me to
let go. Once an irritant is washed out, they say you can start seeing better
immediately. All that stupid tears and all that rubbing of the soul, until your
eyelids would cry out, no more, no more. And then, just like that, one fine
day, I wake up, and she was gone. As
the train chugged out
The tracks cried out in senseless
creaks of half despair