Dear Grandma, I still miss you.

At times, I am alone; at times, I am lonely.
I just need someone to hear me out.
There are times when I feel like no one cares and I have no one to confide in.
I look around, hoping for help, grasping at straws, but it’s despair all around.
I think of you.

If you were here, would I have felt so lonely?
I could have poured my heart out—all my worries, troubles and apprehensions.
I would have discussed my anxiety.
You would have listened to me without any prejudice.
Then, at the end of it all, you would have smiled and told me it would be alright.
That’s all I would have needed to lift myself.

I have gone astray, committed mistakes, made wrong decisions, misused trust placed on me, been humiliated, betrayed by friends, cheated upon by colleagues, taken for a ride by close family, two bouts of depression, seizures, panic attacks, anxiety disorders and died a thousand times to live this one life.
I have been ugly, bad and good, all in this one life and I am the sum total of my experiences.
I wish I could go back in time and reverse a few of those, but mortals can’t do a thing about the past.
You could have mentored, guided, and helped me decipher right from wrong if you were around.
Alas, I have had to learn it all by trial and error.

Over two decades since you left this earth for the heavenly abode. I wish you were still here, guiding and keeping the folk together. There has been so much chaos and confusion ever since you left. Even if we couldn’t have figured it out, your towering presence would have had a calming effect on us. Wouldn’t that have been wonderful, given the nature of the issues plaguing us? Nonetheless, that’s life. We have to deal with it.

I cast my mind to that last meeting of ours. How troubled and anguished you looked. How much worry and concern did you have about your granddaughter. You only kept asking if there was any news of her and if she was safe. It’s incredible how only you thought about “safety” while everyone debated whether her actions were right or wrong. Yes, Grandma, she is safe and happy. I wish you had known that before your breadth, your last. I feel so bad that I didn’t speak to you well that day. I was already drowning in my worries, and my mind was occupied….. only if I had known.

I wish I had spent more time with you. That was the only time I saw you so down and troubled. You felt responsible, but I don’t think you had anything to do with that incident. I wish I had said something that would have given you confidence and helped you calm down. So many ifs and buts…..

The memories you have left behind.
The beautiful stories you told me.
The time spent in the tea estates,
The journey to the temples,
The walk in the forests,
The enjoyable trips to the five sisters’ homes,
The futile visits to lawyer chambers and courthouses,
The Badaga raga songs you would often sing at home.

I vividly remember the story of the light guiding our people in the forest. It’s still fresh in my mind.
When your uncle passed away, I was a little boy. We were all there at the funeral. The Badaga raga you sang on that day was so soothing and brought everyone to tears. I must have been in middle school then, but I still remember that day only because of the beautiful rendition.

How tactically you would save me from my parents for being mischievous—so many times.

The harmless gentle curse when we reported to Mom about you eating rice in her absence. You had a medical condition, and we were only trying to keep you safe and healthy.

The best of the lot is whenever you stayed with us, you would sleep in my room and on the adjacent bed. How many stories, the laughter, the warning by mom because of the disturbance we created. How much I miss those nights.

Badaga’s don’t believe in the concept of rebirth, and the soul goes on to join the Shivalokha after it leaves the body. You joined your ancestors a bit too early, though. I hope you returned to your parents and grandpa and, of course, to your little girl who left us much earlier. That must have been one heck of a reunion.

Maybe you are one of those stars up there, shining brightly and keeping watch over your loved ones.

I learned love, affection, and caring. You did not only love your offspring and grandchildren. You loved your extended family, your sisters, your brother, and their families as your own, like a mother bird circling over her nest and protecting her babies.

I learned, not to be greedy and to be supportive and generous to the people who matter the most to you. Money or wealth was never an issue for you. How often have I witnessed you giving away money, groceries, clothes and more to relatives, friends and even people who were strangers.

I learned, not to get attached to worldly pleasures. You owned so much land but had very little left in the end. All those either sold at such low rates to meet your day-to-day living needs or given away to loved ones or robbed by elements who used your vulnerability. You would still not be deterred and choose to live a happy life.

I learned, determination and grit. To lose Grandpa at such a young age and to raise three daughters in the 50s and 60s was no mean task. You did that and then lost your youngest teenage daughter in such devastating circumstances. How cruel life had been, but you had risen above all that and lived with determination through those rough years.

I learned, to go the extra mile and give everything for family’s sake. You didn’t even want to live in your own house. You gave everything and were content to stay with your daughters’ families. You were happy visiting your sisters and brother’s family now and then, staying in each place for days together. Family, relatives, and relationships meant everything to you.

I learned never give up and fight for what is right. You were cheated and robbed of your estate by vested interests who knew the loopholes in the system and were well aware you didn’t know how to read and write. To take away the land you owned and throw you out of the house along with your little children. To keep torturing you to part with your family inheritance. To cheat you and take away what rightfully belonged to you. You stood rock solid and came out a winner. So proud of you, grandma. I hope I can make you proud one day. Even if I can achieve five per cent of what you did, that would be a grand achievement.

We have always called you Awway (Mother) and not Hethae (Grandma) and I wonder, if you actually took that too seriously and lived to that badge. You were and will always my sweet Awway.