Gowri – My Grand Mother (Ajji) - Poem by Vidi Writes
She, no more, but forever with me
My grand mother, my proud deity.
Clad with black sari and while blouse
Long black hair! Only a few silver lines.
She is the icon of humbleness above all.
My first memory with her is just a fade
She had come through a travel I guess.
I only remember ever, it was her radiant smile
To which I got hooked from the day one.
Its the first such smile I saw in my life.
Since my first togetherness with her
I had my queries to my mother
Perception behind black and white clad around?
Wondered singularity in between our colors
I came to know she lost him while twenty four!
Born on October 2, I equated her to Gandhi
With innocence, I uses to ask, is she his sister?
That brilliant smile with shyness in face
She replied a negative in reply
But I still believed there should be a relation.
Since I could make my own judgments
I rushed to native place during vacations
Just to roam around with her in her yard
Pick up the cashew and mangoes grew around
They were, her inner and outer sources.
It’s great notch, as a drizzle outside
When I used to sit on her coat and listen.
Her talks were whispers, she was scared
Enquiry about my mother is all she cared.
I never understood ache in her belly.
I had heard she sobbing and crying
I never knew what was her agony
But I always felt a stab in my stomach.
In my prayers, I asked joy to her feet
Not knowing, she was owner of many acres.
All she had with her was a small trunk
Peeping inside I could see folded papers
A prayer book and black and while clothes
Also a few silver like tumblers and plates
I didn’t see her treasure having a lock and key.
Daughter of the then police officer
Who fought against Englishmen and lost glory.
She was well educated and well coached
At times taught me the grammar of languages.
I owe my gratitude to her ‘I am able to write’.
I had a great consolation in her company
Which was so soothing and bright
Delicious cooking and gracious serving
Forever not complaining except some tears
Unknowingly she is my prime teacher.
She always advised my boiling mother
To realize ones own ground before the hop
She had great respect to male gender
Taught me the essence of harmony.
I believed her truly, a victim in her life.
For me she is a great sage of life
Loosing her man, living in fathers shelter
She never complained, with we children
Took the pain to her stride and shared the joy
I realized through her, to count the steps in life.
No one advised me, when I got into my family
Except for her words to me “he is your man”.
She told him “she is good to good”.
‘Implied’ in it everything, if anyone could listen
‘A great preach’, so much to listen from our elders.
A treasure of living notes I obtained from her
Is the present generation so fortunate?
Amidst fight for survival, placement and wealth
Only few spend time to value ‘human trends’
Lets sit and think, ‘what are we passing to next kin? ’
Her sudden demise, formed a layer in my mind
I was told, she lamented a lot before the end
Neighbors could hear her cry for secure and care
I wondered whether she broke control at the end!
Not worth a wonder, when youth is loosing control.
Her fragile body on the last bed opened my eyes
With plump hands, I held her hands and compared
A day is set for all, to fall on the same line
‘End is an end’, only at the end, not everyday
That’s the last lesson I got from my divine Granny.
Today, I completed 39 and fallen to my 40 (17/04/2008)
Four decades of my life, more than thousand steps
How many more decades? I have no control!
Valuing all values I learnt from many, especially ‘granny’
I can climb a few more such steps, if so fabricated.
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