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.
Courtesy:The HINDU Raj? (In mild annoyance) Yes Princess? Its a Sunday baby. Why do you have to answer all the calls on your phone? This is my personal phone babe. I don't have too many people calling on this one. Agreed. But this is the third time you are walking out of the room with your phone. It annoys me. I am sorry Princess. But I will have to take all the calls. Raj..%#$@@**.(Major Annoyance) ---Silence----- Princess? What?? Do you remember Anju? That girl who went for a divorce? Yes What about her? Two years ago, on one such Sunday, she had given me a call. I was surprised to see her call, since, we were not really thick. Hmm.. what happened? Did she want to marry you or what? At first there was a lot of silence on the other side. I thought that her kid had dialed out accidentally. And then I plugged my other ear and said Hello again. I felt as if I could hear a sob, and then a whisper. I did not disconnect the call. I just told her that I know something is not right. I
If I could do a Neruda, You would have smelt of summer roses And Autumn pine. There would have been sheer love Of the kind that causes our hearts to ache And loneliness bordering the divine. You would have had so many secrets Welling up as in a girly giggle And so few friends who would hear them all. I am no Neruda I can't paint you a Summer breeze Amidst this long winter chill.