One night she confided in me.
Successive brain attacks had paralyzed almost her entire body but couldn't invade her soul. She had become more nostalgic and constantly complained of not being able to walk by herself-- these were the only changes that surfaced. Inside of her there was a war raging between life and all the pain she was going through.
I tore the chapatti to pieces and soaked in warm milk so that it became soft enough for her to chew. I watched her nibbling...saliva dropping down her mouth. Every now and then I would reach out for the torn sari to wipe her drenched chin.
'' Manu, I don't belong to Mayurbhanj... we lived in Talcher by the Brahmani river (Odisha). My father was in the army but gave up his job as he couldn't bear staying away from me.
He loved me a lot... you know... he would buy me bangles.. those colorful 'glass' ones. Ohh ... how much I loved them!
One day I stole a pear from the 'Bangaali baagicha'... he came over to our house and complained. The next day father bought a basketfull of pears and gave it to them; saying not to complain about his daughter.
He got me married...yet was never able to bear the separation.. he never expressed but I knew.
He would pay me visits once or twice a month. He would bring along goodies with him which my mother had carefully packed. He would come in his army suit... gave up his job but never gave up his 'army-poshaak'.
My mother would sell milk , gather money and had it sent to me... I was their only daughter you see!!
But your Aja (grand-father) didn't like his frequent visits. I told him of this. I still remember... the pain in his eyes... his heart being wrenched by my words. ''
She would go on narrating her childhood days to me ... and I would patiently hear. I've never seen her this way. The smile hiding her helplessness, her pain... it gnawed my heart.
'' Manu ete dina pare aasichi... taku aarisha baneiki dia..'' (Manu had come home after such a long time, make 'pithas' for her) she would request.
She used to make the best 'aarisha-pitha'. My mother had tried her hands but she could never make them as delicious my Aai did. I always asked her the recipe to which she would reply,''First you promise to bring your 'prince charming' to me ... I may leave this world any moment.''
'' You're not going anywhere Aai (grand-ma).. not until I earn and buy you a sari!'' I would say...confused who I was giving this solace to... her or myself?
''Achha... lez see who wins... remember to call me after you leave'', she would smile in return displaying the few teeth disapproving my clairvoyance.
A month later, she proved my words wrong and left me brooding over mine.
Promises unfulfilled... the last call that I was supposed to...but I couldn't.
She made me realize that 'Life' is indeed short and unpredictable
... and what ultimately mattered in the end was your significance in other's lives--- the lives you touched and how much you loved!!
I love you Aai ...