“Experience is the teacher of all things. -Julius Caesar.” Every now and then we say that experience counts. Especially when it comes to things like marriages, it really does. This is the first time, we will be talking about marriage on Mothers Gurukul. So far, we have always talked about parent-child relationship on this platform. 🙂
When I came across this piece, I felt kind of connected and touched. I was always very close to my grandma and I am sure many of us have the same experience. The small details that Deepika, our Guest writer has mentioned in her post like pickles, stories, her friendly talks with her grandma reminds me of my grandma. This post is a part of content sharing from Bonobology. Deepika has done an awesome job in expressing her experiences with her granny. I hope you will enjoy reading this post as much I did.
In this piece, Deepika takes a trip down the memory lane and cherishes the simple wisdom that her 94 year-old grandmother had given her when she first got married.
My grandmother died at the age of 94 or 95. Nobody can really say what was her exact age when she passed away in 2004 because her birth was never officially recorded. And I have no solid information regarding her education qualification too. But she ruled everybody’s heart till she breathed her last. She was the star attraction of all our summer holidays as we always looked forward to visit my mom’s ancestral place.
Her pickles were something to die for. The more one ate, the more one longed for it. Like most Indian grannies, she always carried a basket of stories with her. On hot summer nights, we all slept under the star lit sky and she mesmerized us with her stories. In between stories, she would break into a song and her magical voice would be like manna from heaven. She lived in a joint family with her sons, daughters-in-law and grand-children. My summer holidays with her were one of the exciting points of my growing up years.
But then as the years passed by, my frequent visits to my granny’s house became infrequent. And then followed hostel life, limited days of holidays and pressures of studies, jobs and all that. My childhood years stayed with me like a beautiful memory. From Delhi, granny’s house really looked quite far.
It was not possible for her to attend my marriage as she couldn’t travel much that time. But I wanted my husband to meet her (my husband right from the beginning was over-enthusiastic to meet my clan, extended clan and further extended clan. I am very different on this front) and he jumped at the idea. read more…
About the author:
Deepika loves her tea, poetry, mutton biryani and relationships with homo sapiens (not in the same order though). This story was earlier published in “Chicken Soup for Indian Golden Soul”.