My granny died on September 3,2016,quietly in her sleep. She was unwell and was bedridden for some months. To say it was unexpected would be untrue. To say I was unprepared would be true. We lose our loved ones but nothing makes us ready for the thoughts afterwards.
My grandmother, my mom's mom, was the one who brought me up in the first few years of my life. My mom was working in Jamshedpur and after giving birth to me she had to join back. Since my dad was in Delhi in the Army, it was unclear where I will stay. My dad's family was similarly large (nine siblings) but in their house everyone was working here and there in Kerala and my paternal grandmother was unwell. Hence started a most beautiful relationship with my naani.
1983
My earliest memories of her was in the big house in Idinjalam, Paippad,(Kottayam district)Kerala. Though not as sprawling as the naalukettu houses of Kerala, yet a big nest of happiness for a child who wants to run around. There were ducks,hens,cows,goats, a barn, the works. Even a river with mangroves in the background. Heaven!
Just like many Indian families today, it was a joint family system. Many of my uncles were living and working elsewhere so my aunts were at home- a perfect,idyllic environment for a child to grow up in. On my first birthday, someone recorded some of the 'party' dialogues on cassette and years later whenever I heard it I remember smiling and crying simultaneously. There was so much of togetherness and warmth.
My mornings would start with school which my grandfather used to take me walking to. Since there were no traffic then it was a delight to walk on the road counting the occasional red Kerala buses. Afternoons back home would be personal grooming sessions with granny. She insisted on intensive hair care for me and she would personally oil and massage my hair with the purest coconut oil you can ever grab. Along with this it was really important to her that I play heartily, run and sweat as much as I get cooped up in the room to study.
If I were to describe the food made by her, I know I will not be able to hold back my tears. But I am writing this as a tribute to her and how can I forget the Fish Mappas and Naadan meen curry made by her?
Since she was of the a generation where the number of dishes were not extensive because everything was authentic and not fusion, we used to have mostly the same items. Dosa,idli,puttu kadla were and still are the staple breakfast dishes in Kerala. Bread was unheard of and even now in many homes bread and its modern creations are considered snacks and not breakfast. I know my granny started having bread,biscuits and other bakery items only when she no longer had the physical strength to cook and abuse modern day cooking!
Oh but the taste of even the small variety of food! My mother says after so many years she cannot match upto the perfect batter of appam that my granny makes. Coconut and mango chutney, kanji (rice gruel) and cherupayar thoran ( green moong dal stir fry) is a classic Kerala dinner combination and the best I ever had is that my granny has made. It is obviosuly a psychological reason but in this modern age of too much food and too much variety around us, I am sure we all can vote for home food and the food made by our loved ones the best.
There is a reason why grandma stories are a cliche term. If you sit with your granny or have ever spent time with her, I am sure she must have told you a few stories,real or imaginary. Stories of her life, of Gods or of imaginary places. But stories are to grandparents what smile is to a baby. Innocent,natural and unadulterated.
Granny told me tales of her childhood and of her marriage. Sucker for history as I am and a collector of vintage things as my Cancerian nature cajoles me to, I used to listen to her,sitting on the balcony of that old house,in the Kerala sunset, rapt with attention. How she walked alongside the rail track in her childhood, with wonder at that modern invention. How precious a sack of rice was and how she would hide her few jewellery in them. How sad she was to lose a duckling.
My grandfather died 14 years ago and ever since whenever she would speak about him there will always be an unexplained light in her eyes. It wasn't tears or of romance but a beautiful meeting place of both. Just the kind of feeling which is a signature of that generation,guarded and locked. One of her oft repeated story( I never minded) was how strict he was about timings and his food. He lived simply and hence particular about his things. Once when she was late with serving breakfast,he simply walked out and she didn't eat the whole day. In the evening he came and fixed a 'grandfather's' clock in the kitchen corridor for the entire family! :)
As the years moved on, and her grandchildren scattered about the globe to study,earn and live,she would always talk to any visitor about them. On my regular vacations to Kerala when I would go to meet her,her first questions would be,in this order :
- Did you eat anything?
- Are you praying regularly?
- Why have you not oiled your hair? Jessy, get me the oil bottle!
:)
As I write this, I want to ask God the classic question he must have faced from mortals like me when their close ones die.... Can they see us from heaven? and with the confidence which comes from years of love and togetherness, I know my granny can.
Thank you for everything Ammachi.
My grandmother, my mom's mom, was the one who brought me up in the first few years of my life. My mom was working in Jamshedpur and after giving birth to me she had to join back. Since my dad was in Delhi in the Army, it was unclear where I will stay. My dad's family was similarly large (nine siblings) but in their house everyone was working here and there in Kerala and my paternal grandmother was unwell. Hence started a most beautiful relationship with my naani.
1983
My earliest memories of her was in the big house in Idinjalam, Paippad,(Kottayam district)Kerala. Though not as sprawling as the naalukettu houses of Kerala, yet a big nest of happiness for a child who wants to run around. There were ducks,hens,cows,goats, a barn, the works. Even a river with mangroves in the background. Heaven!
Just like many Indian families today, it was a joint family system. Many of my uncles were living and working elsewhere so my aunts were at home- a perfect,idyllic environment for a child to grow up in. On my first birthday, someone recorded some of the 'party' dialogues on cassette and years later whenever I heard it I remember smiling and crying simultaneously. There was so much of togetherness and warmth.
My mornings would start with school which my grandfather used to take me walking to. Since there were no traffic then it was a delight to walk on the road counting the occasional red Kerala buses. Afternoons back home would be personal grooming sessions with granny. She insisted on intensive hair care for me and she would personally oil and massage my hair with the purest coconut oil you can ever grab. Along with this it was really important to her that I play heartily, run and sweat as much as I get cooped up in the room to study.
If I were to describe the food made by her, I know I will not be able to hold back my tears. But I am writing this as a tribute to her and how can I forget the Fish Mappas and Naadan meen curry made by her?
Since she was of the a generation where the number of dishes were not extensive because everything was authentic and not fusion, we used to have mostly the same items. Dosa,idli,puttu kadla were and still are the staple breakfast dishes in Kerala. Bread was unheard of and even now in many homes bread and its modern creations are considered snacks and not breakfast. I know my granny started having bread,biscuits and other bakery items only when she no longer had the physical strength to cook and abuse modern day cooking!
Oh but the taste of even the small variety of food! My mother says after so many years she cannot match upto the perfect batter of appam that my granny makes. Coconut and mango chutney, kanji (rice gruel) and cherupayar thoran ( green moong dal stir fry) is a classic Kerala dinner combination and the best I ever had is that my granny has made. It is obviosuly a psychological reason but in this modern age of too much food and too much variety around us, I am sure we all can vote for home food and the food made by our loved ones the best.
There is a reason why grandma stories are a cliche term. If you sit with your granny or have ever spent time with her, I am sure she must have told you a few stories,real or imaginary. Stories of her life, of Gods or of imaginary places. But stories are to grandparents what smile is to a baby. Innocent,natural and unadulterated.
Granny told me tales of her childhood and of her marriage. Sucker for history as I am and a collector of vintage things as my Cancerian nature cajoles me to, I used to listen to her,sitting on the balcony of that old house,in the Kerala sunset, rapt with attention. How she walked alongside the rail track in her childhood, with wonder at that modern invention. How precious a sack of rice was and how she would hide her few jewellery in them. How sad she was to lose a duckling.
My grandfather died 14 years ago and ever since whenever she would speak about him there will always be an unexplained light in her eyes. It wasn't tears or of romance but a beautiful meeting place of both. Just the kind of feeling which is a signature of that generation,guarded and locked. One of her oft repeated story( I never minded) was how strict he was about timings and his food. He lived simply and hence particular about his things. Once when she was late with serving breakfast,he simply walked out and she didn't eat the whole day. In the evening he came and fixed a 'grandfather's' clock in the kitchen corridor for the entire family! :)
As the years moved on, and her grandchildren scattered about the globe to study,earn and live,she would always talk to any visitor about them. On my regular vacations to Kerala when I would go to meet her,her first questions would be,in this order :
- Did you eat anything?
- Are you praying regularly?
- Why have you not oiled your hair? Jessy, get me the oil bottle!
:)
As I write this, I want to ask God the classic question he must have faced from mortals like me when their close ones die.... Can they see us from heaven? and with the confidence which comes from years of love and togetherness, I know my granny can.
Thank you for everything Ammachi.
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