I Will Be A Great Grandmother!

There was this confession going on in the site where I blog. To steer clear from ‘Aati kya khandala’ type of thwarting notes, one lady blogger wrote a blog titled ‘I am a grandmother’. Another man followed suit albeit with a declaration of denial, which he hoped would guarantee a doubling up of the invites. His blog was titled ‘I am NOT a grandfather’. So I thought it only befitting to join in the confessional queue. So here I am striving to define my own ‘grand’ admission. Now before you jump to conclusions and injure an optic nerve or two, kindly read the entire post :-}

When my eldest sister Naaz Apa got married I was in school and one of my subjects was Home Science. For the practicals, Sister Rosemary insisted we had ‘real’ subjects to deal with. Therefore newborn babies were imported from outhouses and brought to our school laboratory. This was the Bhubaneswar St. Joseph’s convent. We were taught to handle the infants- pick them up, change them, bathe them etc. So naturally, when my sister became a mother, the novice mom was only too glad for the 'expert' to take over. The baby, my nephew, grew up, got married and became a father. By then even though I was only a mother of two young ones myself, I was already a grandaunt.

But what with the busy lifestyles, we usually met these kids briefly- mostly on occasions of celebrations or of grief. After our transfer to Bhubaneswar however, the proximity with the family grew. But never for a moment did I imagine that one innocent introductory word would send me into a state of shock.

Last year, for the first time when I heard the cute lisping sound of ‘Nalgis Daadee’ from my grand nephew, I was like ‘Who…What… Where… How…?’

OMG…Dadi Ma? Nani Ma? Paati? Grandma? Those were words from the vocab of the antiquated. Definitely not mine. It reminded me of the painful time, when just after my wedding, I had first heard ‘Nargis Auntie’ from a man old enough to be my father. And now with Dadi on the horizon, even ‘Auntie’ was like music to my ears. My expression must have shown because I could see my husband with his you better accept you’re not getting any younger kind of smile. But what followed was even more hilarious.

‘Aur yeh kaun hain?’ my nephew asked his daughter, pointing to my husband.

‘Chankal Daadaa’ the little girl said.

Everybody burst out laughing. If I remember right, a long time back there was this movie about a famous thug called ‘Shankar Dada’. And two years back a remake in Telegu of MunnaBhai was also called ‘Shankar Dada MBBS’. So naturally I assumed the haughty look that spoke so what if I am a Dadi at least my name does not sound like a Gunda or a Don.

And when I stole a glance at Shanker it felt like he was also being reminded of the painful first time while shopping in a Supermarket in KL. While trying out a trendy shirt, all the time aware of a twenty something’s eye on him, he was suddenly approached by her with a ‘Why don’t you try this Uncle?’

I can never forget that look of excruciating pain on his face that lasted for quite some time. And the utter state of shock he was in, with a redundant phrase resounding in our home for the next three days-
‘How can she call me Uncle?…
‘How can she call me Uncle?….
‘How can she call me Uncle?
‘How can she call ME Uncle?’

Anyways, what I’m trying to say is that there are some roles in life that amuse us only in literature or in stories. And there are some, which you can never envision yourself in. So today if given a choice between being immortal with the fountain of youth or choosing the full circle of life with it’s ups and it’s downs, I’d definitely choose the latter. For it is from the brief candle of life and not from an eternal torch that one can extract that last flicker of brilliant light.

When my kids were grown up and we had to part ways I was devastated. While setting them free all I could remember was the wonderful feeling of holding on to them all those years and the excruciating agony of having to let go. Yesterday after reading those two blogs, all I can think of is the agony of holding on to all those silly assumptions. And the ecstasy of finally letting go!

So now every time I am amidst my grand nephews and nieces I will be enveloped with a fragrant perfume. And there'll be no wondering that it is the smell of my future. In any case nobody changes socks in the middle of a race. When I planned my family, my mom never said ‘Hey, hold on, I’m not yet ready to become a grandmother.’ So if and when my race for becoming a Dadi begins, I’ll be properly geared for the role. For I want to be not just another grandmother. But a GREAT grandmother!

P.S. These are a few pics of all my grand nephews and nieces. Asif, Sarah, Faraaz, Ayaan, Rehan, Suhana, Kabir and Armaan. Shanker's nephew got married only recently. So that side of the family tree is yet to bear fruits :-}











Originally posted in Sulekha.com